Star Wars: Tides of War
by Andrew J. Low
Summary: Just over two and a half decades after the Battle of Yavin, the New Republic faces a new threat, a race of pain-worshipping, alien conquerors called the Yuuzhan Vong. And two young, eager Corellian friends join the fight to help protect the innocent and stem the tide of the Vong flood across the galaxy. So far the good guys have been losing this war, but not for much longer.
1. Chapter 1

STAR WARS

Tides of War

By Andrew J. Low

This book is dedicated to Joe Cabatit (Marv) and Jesse L. Holt (Zee). Without your monumental

encouragement and veritable wellspring of creative inspiration, this project may well have never been started,

let alone finally completed. My undying thanks to you, my brothers. May the Force be with you, always.

Dramatis Personae

Dwight "Marv" Hartigan; detective, Corellian Security Force, 26 yrs. (human male from Corellia)

Lowan Colaf; Jedi Master and CorSec Special Adviser, 22 yrs. (human male from Corellia)

Zevan L'oht; Jedi Ace, 21 yrs. (human male from Coruscant)

Ens. Yuri Tagawa; pilot, New Republic Navy, 19 yrs. (human female from Abregado Rae)

Zenna Krae; Peace Brigade cell leader, 34 yrs. (human female from Abraxas)

Dakk Shai; Yuuzhan Vong Commander (male Yuuzhan Vong)

 **Chapter 1.**

 _26.5 ABY_

 _Marv._

It was a skrag to get this far, stang it! Glaring at the massive Yuuzhan Vong taskforce that was slowly filling the forward viewport of this blasted Imperial shuttle I was flying for some durned reason, I racked my brain as to what the kriff to do next. 'Cuz I had seen some crazy things in my day, believe me. But an entire armada of rocky, asteroid-like Vong warships? All covered from nose to tail in spiky, black cannon emplacements? That was even a lil' much for this guy to take in all at once.

I mean, yeah. This war against the Vong had been going on for almost two years now. Long story short. These slant-headed, tattooed, scar-covered freaks came barging into **our** galaxy thinking they had every right to claim system after system for their own in service to their dung-sucking excuse for gods. And so far, they've been powerful enough to do just that, with little to no resistance from our almost laughably unprepared, New Republic Military. So yeah, I've heard all the horror stories of their weirdly-living biotechnology and huge, unstoppable warrior forces. But they invaded from out beyond the Outer Rim, so Coreward folks like me hadn't yet had the pleasure of fighting these twisted, pain-worshipping gundarks head on. But seeing the ridiculously large, enemy force in front of me now, I was honestly glad we hadn't.

Y'know, it's kinda funny. Just three weeks ago, my life had been a lot simpler. I was just a detective, albeit an exceptional one, employed by the Corellian Security Force, or CorSec, for short. Yep, that's right. I was among the elite men and women whose mere mention struck fear into the heart of every two-bit criminal throughout the Core Worlds.

Of course, my day-to-day life wasn't all glitz, glory, and adventure, but thru six and a half years of service, good ol' Marv had seen more than his fair share of action. Drugbusts, murder investigations, hostage situations, smuggler chases spanning entire star systems, you name it, I'd done it and survived, by the skin of my teeth at times, but still. I used to joke around with my fellow officers, stuff like, "Hey man, if you didn't end up in a bacta tank after the fact, then it wasn't dangerous enough, now was it?" But I guess it's easy to get a little cocky, especially after a few weekend dips brought you back from the dead. Then again, I'm Marv. 'S what I do.

Anyway, everything was more or less normal. Then one day my buddy, Lowan Colaf, Jedi Knight and CorSec Special Advisor, called me into the office to ask a favor. Now mind you, I don't do favors. But the kid had been my partner for going on two years, and he sounded really desperate on the holomessage he left me. So I decided to go into HQ and hear him out first, before I inevitably turned him down. 'Cuz he'd earned that much, at least.

Turns out, the New Rep. brass were hosting a festival for the people of Coronet City, my planet's capital. Apparently, it was one of several events going on across the galaxy over the next few weeks. Some snot-nosed politician's plan to boost civilian morale despite the ongoing, and so far losing, war with the Vong, I guess. And my buddy, Lowan, had been put in charge of security for the day by none other than ol' fish-head himself, Admiral Ackbar. Talk about having no room for error. Sheesh.

So yeah, the New Rep. Senate were bringing in their own team to babysit the masses. But my buddy wanted me to be there, too, just in case anything 'exciting' went down. I guess like most Jedi he 'had a bad feeling about this,' whatever that's supposed to mean. Still, I was reluctant to go along with it, even after he promised me it would be nothing more than another boring, cakewalk job, which let's be real, those things rarely are.

But I agreed to help the kid out anyway when he said he'd owe me one in exchange for it down the line. I mean, come on. It never hurts to have a Jedi on deck to back you up if you need it. Not that I have before 'cuz I'm Marv, the down 'n dirty, one-man army. I get the job done. May not be pretty when the dust finally settles, but I get it done. Period.

So anyway, the festival. It was just another cool, Corellian spring afternoon. They had food, drinks, vendor booths, a live band, carnies, the whole shebang. And smack dab in the middle of it was little ol' me. The celebration rolled on pretty smoothly. And I'll admit, the band was great, the food was good 'n greasy, and they even had a guest speaker planned to say a few words to the crowd. Adm. Wes Janson, everyone's fifth favorite Corellian after Han Solo, Wedge Antilles, Corran Horn, and me, Dwight 'Marv' Hartigan. Shut up, it's my story, so that's how I'm gonna tell it. Alright?

Yeah, so Adm. Janson. Good guy, so I'd heard. Rebellion pilot, war hero, all-around jokester. I bet he'd had been up half the night before preparing one hell of a speech. But we'd never know for sure. 'Cuz that's when things got ugly, kids.

Just as the admiral approached the podium to address the gathered masses, a Yuuzhan Vong war cry erupted from somewhere within the crowd. CorSec training kicking in instantly, I reacted. I scanned the sea of people and assorted aliens for a few seconds until finally, I spotted him. A Vong assassin not more than twenty meters from the mainstage where Janson stood. A large, hooded cloak lay crumpled on the ground behind him which I guess would explain why nobody seemed to notice him before then. He was a big, mean-looking chakaar. Tattoos all up and down his arms and massive, bare chest. Festering scars and piercings covering his big, ugly mug. But I could take him down. Maybe.

Before the admiral could react the assassin hurled a razorbug straight at his head. Luckily, at that exact same moment, Lowan leapt onto the stage and tackled Janson to the floor. Good thing, too. 'Cuz had he done it just a split-second later, the nasty lil' creature would've sliced the older man's head clean off his shoulders. The next second, my buddy was up, lightsaber blazing, positioning himself between the attacker and his intended target with a determined, passionless stare.

Uh-oh, I've seen that look before. You don't mess with a guy looking at you like that. But apparently, nobody had clued in the assassin about it. 'Cuz the big, ugly, scar-faced barve just hopped onto the stage, calmly unravelling the amphistaff that had been coiled around his forearm and setting himself for the epic, macho, Vong honor duel that was sure to follow next.

I watched this whole sequence unfold right in front of my eyes like an action/adventure holovid in slow motion. But I couldn't do a thing about it. 'Cuz right then, I had my own problems. The Senate's personal guards had turned out to be none other than members of the Peace Brigade, a loose organization of pirates, thieves, and other scum all dedicated to working for the Yuuzhan Vong in the hopes of saving their own stinking hides in the process. Spineless cowards, all of ya. You'll get no sympathy from me. The Brigadiers all pulled out blasters and started firing into the crowd, sending the masses into an instant panic and consequently, providing a handy, lil' distraction for their scar-faced buddy over there.

Without a second thought, I pulled out my Rebellion-Era Blas-Tech A280 high-powered Longblaster, a marked upgrade from the CorSec standard CDEF rifle, and scrambled towards the nearest corner of the stage. Higher ground was my most immediate concern as it would give me a crucial advantage over those cowardly barves. Not that I'd normally need it, mind you, but when you got civvies in the mix, and I did, you need every edge you could get to end things as quickly and safely as possible. And seeing as my buddy had his hands full at the moment with the Vong assassin, it was looking like I'd have to handle this one myself. Mano a Marv.

Aiming carefully and squeezing the trigger, I started laying down burst after burst of crimson, super-heated energy. Honestly, I wasn't really shooting to kill so much as trying to draw their fire away from the crowd and give those poor people at least half a chance to get out of here alive. But when the di'kute started shooting back, well, all bets were off.

One of them bought it quick and painless when I picked him off at thirty meters right between the eyes. The other four proved just as easy as the first. I'm not a crack-shot or anything, but those countless hours at the CorSec shooting range weren't exactly wasted neither. I dealt with them each in turn, leisurely sighting along the barrel and almost casually pulling the trigger. Hehehe, that's alright, boys. This old man can always use the target practice.

Suddenly, I heard Lowan yell out in pain behind me. I turned back to him quickly. He was clutching his newly-wounded, right arm. But then he just took a deep, calming breath, switched his lightsaber to his left hand, and put on his brave face once again. Whew! Okay, kid's gonna be fine.

I turned back to the crowd and scanned it again for anymore foolish Brigadiers to put out of their misery. Then I noticed a few of them getting into a landspeeder at the far edge of the festival grounds. Sithspawn! They're getting away!

I hopped off the stage and pushed thru the crowd as fast as I could, all the while keeping one eye focused on those fleeing, cowardly sons of gundarks. Luckily, the jumbled mass of terrified, confused civvies had cleared out a lot since the shooting had finally ceased. The Brigadiers tore off down the street just as I made it to the outer edge of the crowd. So, with no time to waste, I bashed thru the window of the closest, parked speeder with the butt of my rifle. Then I hotwired the blasted thing and sped off after them. I mean, yeah. It probably would've been a whole lot smarter to call for back-up before charging after them, all alone, like a crazy person with a hero complex, or a death wish, or maybe both. But there was no time, stang it!

So I followed them thru the ever-winding, city streets of "the Big C." We twisted and turned, dodging speeder-traffic constantly and coming mere centimeters from a messy, painful, hi-speed collision death more than a few times, only to swerve and avoid it at the last millisecond. I gotta hand it to ya, old man. That's some durn-fine driving. Now, quit patting yourself on the back and get moving!

I finally caught up to the barvy scum after about ten, adrenaline-charged minutes. They set down outside a seedy, little cantina which the remaining Brigadiers hurriedly entered. Located right in the festering heart of Blue Sector, or as the locals called it, "the Pit," it boasted a dimly flickering, neon sign above the entrance that read "Karok's Bar & Grill." I'd heard of the place. Sounded real classy, I'll tell ya.

I parked my commandeered speeder in an alley a couple blocks away. Can't risk warning their friends that I followed 'em home, y'know? Then this whole crazy situation would only go from bad to worse, and I really didn't need that kind of a headache to fall in my lap this morning until I at least had another deathstick and a steaming hot cup of some abnormally strong caf. So, hoping for the best but expecting the worst, I casually strolled into the cantina. Okay, Marv. Just be cool.

As I suspected, Karok's was a real friendly place, with a thick layer of grime and filled to the brim with the usual crowd of unsavory, lowlife types. I snooped around for a good few minutes or so before I discovered the secret passage hidden behind a stall in the men's 'fresher. Figuring it most likely led to an underground base of some sort, I carefully squeezed in and crept down the old, synth-wood staircase beyond it. I should have noticed the security holocam hidden in the shadows at the top of the stairs, but I missed it. Consequently, they knew I was coming and boy, were they prepared.

Note to self: _When storming a Peace Brigade hideout in the future, be sure to think up a plan, or any sort of rudimentary strategy for that matter, before blindly charging in like a crazed Gamorrean_. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was greeted by half a dozen blaster barrels, all with shifty-eyed, trigger-happy Brigadiers behind them. They had me cornered, sure. But you know what, you slimy, worthless hut'unne? I'm **MARV!**

Without a second's hesitation, I whipped out my pretty ladies, my trusty twin BlasTech DL-22 blaster pistols. Then I blasted two of the no-good outlaws right in their scruffy, barvy faces. Another fired back at me, but he missed. So I dove in between his friends and rolled to a knee, now facing them from behind. I shot two more in the back before they could turn around. Then I pivoted around to take cover behind one's still falling corpse. The remaining two were understandably freaking out. I mean, I had just wasted four of their buddies in just as many seconds.

But, not one to feel sorry for those who were trying to kill me, I just took advantage of their panicked hesitation. First, I kicked the closest guy's legs out from under him as I blasted his friend in the kneecap. Then I shot them both in the head from point-blank range as they were trying their best to stand.

When the fight was over, nothing could be heard in the room except for my own labored breathing. For some reason, I've never gotten over that bad case of Kel Dorian Bronchitis I had when I was nine standard years old. It comes and goes, but it almost always reared its ugly head after a bout of good, old-fashioned, knock-down, drag-out violence. But eh, it'll pass. I got up like a man and kept on walking.

I had to deal with a few more guys here and there, but nothing dangerous or exciting enough to holomessage home about. Eventually, I made my way around to an old, rickety bank of turbolifts in the southeast corner which, by the looks of them, hadn't seen use since the days of the Old Republic. Obviously, the turbolifts were a trap, but I mean, come on. What other choice did I have but to step in and hope for the best, right? Big mistake. Barely half a second after the rusty doors creaked shut, I heard a sultry, gloating female voice crackle over the ancient comm speaker.

"Ooooh, my poor lil' bolt-brained do-gooder. You guys never learn, do you? Just charge on in to save the day without the least bit of forethought to the painful, deadly consequences. It's so sad that you won't live long enough for us to meet face to face. Hehehehe, but I do hope you enjoy the ride."

Next thing I knew, I was rocketing straight to the bottom of the shaft some five levels down. The lift car hit bottom with a loud, hollow "CLANG", and I have to admit, I was amazed I lived through it at all. Huh, thank the Force for rusty shaft cables, I guess. When the dust finally settled in the now bent, twisted remains of the lift car, ol' Marv here was a little roughed up, and more than a little pished off, but I was, more or less, okay. Hells, given the circumstances, things could've been a lot worse.

The turbolift doors creaked slowly open then, leading me right into, you guessed it, an ambush, compliments of a lone Vong warrior, amphistaff at the ready and wearing what I had heard was the customary, black vonduun crabshell armor. Humph, am I supposed to be scared or something? I shook my head and drew my pretty ladies once again, fully intending to unload them on this poor, unlucky creature standing before me.

 **CLICK!** You gotta be kiddin' me. A bonafide Rodese-standoff and my guns just picked the perfect time to jam. The warrior grinned a lipless smile, eyeing me like a hungry predator, waiting to strike. No other choice left, I tossed the pistols aside and drew my ol' trusty pair of vibroblades. Cursing under my breath, I absently adjusted my lucky beanie. Then I muttered a half-hearted prayer to the Force, flicked on the 'blades, and dove in swinging.

To tell the truth, I'm not sure if "brave" accurately describes my actions right then, though "stupid" sure comes to mind. I mean, here I was, barely 1.75 meters and 73 kilos soaking wet going toe-to-toe with a two-meter tall, scar-covered monster who by all accounts, could be best described as a 130-kilo wall of raging, angry muscle. Now, anyone in their right mind would stay as far away from an enemy like that as possible. But I knew something he didn't. I'm a Corellian, and that means I could give a frick about the odds. So come on, you two-toed, swamp-sucker! Let's play!

And play we did. The Vong whirled his amphistaff around with lightning speed and deadly precision, though I wasn't about to back down. No, I held my ground, blocking every strike the alien launched at me on my humming blades. He was unbelievably powerful, and every blow threatened to knock me off my feet even more than the last. But I stayed up somehow and kept on fighting.

I refused to be intimidated by this snarling beast. So I clung steadfast to that grim resolve that had kept me mere centimeters from death more than a few times in the past. He didn't know who he was dealing with here. I am **Marv** , and no ugly, scar-faced alien was gonna take me for a victim, stang it!

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, I batted his staff to the side and buried my blade to the hilt in a weak spot in the armor, right under his armpit. I could hear it buzzing inside him, churning his guts into hot, entrail stew. But he didn't scream. No, not a groan, wince, or wheeze. He just slowly lowered his head, gazing deep into his killer's eyes, a look of almost divine ecstasy spreading across that nasty, self-mutilated face.

We stood just there, him and me, locked in that eerie, quasi-intimate stare for what seemed like hours, though really it couldn't have been more than a few seconds at the most. Then he nodded just as slowly, a sort of unspoken respect passing between us, from one warrior to another. He knew he'd been bested. And though a part of him couldn't believe it, pain doesn't lie, now does it?

The warrior started coughing blood, thick and black, which flowed freely down his chin in an ever-building stream. Then the life drained from his eyes, and he slid off my humming blade, collapsing into a crumpled heap at my feet. I reflected in that moment on the grim reality of war and what it did to those brave enough to keep on fighting it day in and day out. Sacrifice, isn't even the half of it, folks. This job takes a lifetime of dedication that most people in this galaxy can't even begin to understand. But I'm not looking for any "thank you's" here. No, I don't do it for them. I do it for me. Because it has to be done, and somebody's gotta be there to do it.

And sure, the faceless Peace Brigade leader got away in the end, and the New Republic Senate denied all knowledge of any ties to the Vong-friendly, terrorist faction. But maybe, just maybe, I made a difference to somebody, somewhere that day, and that was good enough for me, stang it. In a galaxy where the threat of total alien invasion affects the life of even the most common citizen, at the end of the day I could say that I did my part to keep those filthy scarheads from winning this grisly war. And if I kept on doing that every day, it was worth it. The more of them I took out, the less there were to try to enslave us all. Just gotta keep fighting, Marv. Gotta keep fighting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

Things were pretty quiet for a couple weeks, but personally, my newly bruised ribs enjoyed every second of R&R they got. That is, until I received a personal summons from Gen. Wedge Antilles, hero of the Rebellion and newly-appointed liaison between the New Republic Navy and New Republic Intelligence. Now, this is Wedge Antilles, **the Wedge Antilles** , so naturally, I dropped everything and immediately hopped the next transport to meet him on Borleias.

Once I arrived, the general waved away the pleasantries and explained the situation in his famed, skip-to-the-facts approach. Adm. Wes Janson, his dear friend and compatriot, had been shot down while commanding the Taanab Yellow Aces in the feeble defense of Gyndine, a semi-industrial planet located just off the Hydian Way. Although the world did possess a modest orbital shipyard, in all other respects, it remained insubstantial and unattractive as a military target. If only the Gyndine government hadn't just recently accepted a large number of refugees, maybe it would have stayed that way. The poor di'kute really sealed their fates with that deal.

Naturally, New Republic High Command deemed the situation both too dangerous and too low on its priority list to warrant a sanctioned recovery operation. So Wedge, being the stubborn, compassionate soldier we all know and love, asked me to sneak a small shuttle into Vong-space and bring his old buddy back personally. My unflinching sense of CorSec duty compelled me to eagerly accept the general's plea. Okay, so maybe there was a little, healthy "hero worship" in there, too. Sue me. I think I said something like, "Sir, it would be an honor and a privilege to help out such a great commander, yada, yada, yada." Stang, Marv. Sometimes you sound like a blabbering idiot.

At any rate, I took the shuttle, and with the help of my new pilot, a young, fresh-faced girl by the name of Ensign Yuri Tagawa, I set out to complete the urgent mission. A few, uneventful hours spent in hyperspace and we finally jumped back out to realspace at the edge of the Gyndine system. A passive look at the long-range scanners showed multiple Yuuzhan Vong contacts orbiting the planet in a loose, defensive perimeter.

"Sithspawn! How in the Nine Hells are we gonna get past those things and down to the surface in one piece?" I wondered aloud.

Yuri though, seemed cheery as ever. With a cocky grin she said, "Don't worry, babe. I can get us thru, no problem."

Guessing by her age and rather limited military experience, I had my doubts. But to my great relief, the confident young woman came thru, and we slipped casually under the Vong's radar and down into the atmosphere unnoticed. We might've made it safely to the surface, too, if not for half a dozen large, stingray-shaped crafts that showed up from out of nowhere as soon as we broke through the clouds.

"Yuri! Six bogeys coming up on our tail! Looks like atmospheric flyers," I warned her.

"I see 'em. I see 'em," she responded, a flash of worry creasing her forehead momentarily.

"Can you get us down below the trees before they spot us?"

"What do you think this is, an X-Wing?" came the incredulous reply. Then she rolled her eyes at me like she figured it was my first time in a cockpit. "Just strap in there, hotshot. The fun's just getting started."

Great, six-to-one odds and I've got a mouthy, teenage pilot who somehow thinks she's running the show. Jeez, Marv. How do you get yourself into these things? I sighed aloud. "Just set 'em up, sweetheart, and ol' Marv'll knock 'em down."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," came her sarcastic reply.

I thought we were toast for sure, but amazingly, thanks to Yuri's surprisingly competent flying and my own CorSec-honed marksmanship, we managed to fend them off and still keep the ship reasonably intact. Except then, out of nowhere, a large and powerful energy beam lanced up at us from the surface. Yuri tried to swerve out of the way, but the thing still caught us almost dead center. The blast instantly fried our shields and scorched the outer layer of our heavy armor-plated hull. Luckily, my pilot still managed to pull up in time to barely avoid crashing us right into the trees.

After landing our damaged craft on the planet's surface, I did a quick scan of the area for reinforcements then proceeded to assess the shuttle's condition. Lemme tell ya, it wasn't promising. Kriffin' anti-ship turbolasers! But regardless, I was still pretty sure we could fix the damage before we had to blast out of here with all speed.

But I didn't have time to worry about that right at that moment. I had to head out and start the search for Janson. He might not have much time left. Yuri insisted on coming with me to find him, but I refused. Not that I'd mind the help; she was cute enough, I'll admit. That is, when she wasn't questioning every single order I gave her. Besides, I thought it wiser to have someone stay behind to start the repairs. No telling when those flyers would decide to show up again.

As I was headed down the landing ramp I caught a glimpse of her leaning against a bulkhead a little further into the ship. She glared vibrodaggers at me for a long moment, then spun on her heel and stomped back up the corridor to the maintenance closet. What the kriff was that about? Was it something I said? Can't dwell on it. Gotta save Janson. Besides, that R2 unit, Sparks. He'll keep her company, right? It never fails, Marv. You can get inside the minds of some of the craziest, most dangerous criminals in the galaxy, but when it comes to women, you don't have a freakin' clue. Ah hell, put it aside. It'll be dark out soon. I made a mental note to return the droid to Lowan when this was all over and hoped that Yuri would get over whatever it was that had offended her. Then I set off into the forest and began my search for the admiral.

A few hours and several kilometers later, I found him, bound and gagged, but otherwise okay. He was lying at the edge of a small clearing that seemed to be some sort of crude, Vong campsite. In the center there was a small, brightly glowing creature that served as the campfire. Sitting around it was a squad of Vong warriors, speaking to each other in their harsh, guttural, native tongue. One thing was for sure, things did not look good. So, with careful planning and a little creative ingenuity, I came up with a strategy that allowed me to split them up and take them on more or less one at a time.

It was an exciting fight, but luckily, not a bloody one. Well, not for me anyway. But I won't bore ya with the details. As I was untying the admiral afterwards, it occurred to me that I had just saved him from almost certain death for the second time in less than a month. I could see the gratitude in his eyes, but he made me promise I wouldn't make saving his butt a hobby. It's hard to say if he was joking or not, but I decided not to chance wounding a fellow soldier's pride by asking.

Instead, I said, "Okay, admiral. How's about we head back to the ship now before another patrol comes by?" Janson gave me a sideways glance and shook his head. Then he opened his mouth to protest. But I stopped him and said, "Anti-ship turbolaser, right? Yeah, we discovered that nifty lil' defense toy of theirs on the way down."

The old man nodded glumly. As much as both of us hated to admit it, we had to take the big ground gun out. Otherwise, we would never get offworld. I checked my blasters. Ninety-percent charge. Hmmm. Guess we're taking a detour.

We came up on the installation just after sunset. There was a slight breeze on the air, though it did little to chill the muggy, post-invasion heat. The turbolaser was straight ahead, surrounded by little, blinking red caution lights. It occurred to me then that neither Janson nor I had any explosives on hand.

Fierfek! "How the hells are we gonna get rid of that thing without any sort of heavy ordnance at our disposal?" I thought aloud.

"The same way we fought the Empire back in the old days, kid. Very carefully."

I ignored his joke and kept my focus on the task at hand. "Hmmm, I don't see any guards. Think it's a trap?"

"'Course it's a trap. But I'm not getting any younger just sittin' here, so what do you say we just bust in, guns blazin'?"

"Once a fighter pilot, always a fighter pilot, huh?"

"You betcha, kid."

"Tell you what. Just let me do a quick check of the perimeter first, and then we'll go. Sound good?" I asked.

"Sure, sure, but, uh, while you're out, try to find me some bug spray, will ya son? These tiger-mosquitoes are killin' me," he laughed as I disappeared into the underbrush.

I started to make my way gingerly around the complex. Hmmm, nothing seems out of the ordinary. The distant shriek of a hawkbat, the gentle rustling of the Arecaceae trees, the entire forest as peaceful as can be. I sat and listened for a few more moments until I was almost sure there was no one around. Then I crept back to Janson's side.

"How's it look?" he asked, half-serious.

"Well, it **looks** clear enough, but I won't lie to ya. I still got a bad feeling about this."

"Don't worry, kid. We'll be fine. You're working with a pro here, remember?" he assured me.

"Yeah. Here, you might need this," I said, handing him my prized A280 and a couple of extra power paks.

He took the rifle, gazing at it for a moment, then looked up at me with a kind of childlike delight in his eyes. He said simply, "Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

And so despite the cold feeling nestled firmly in my gut, we emerged from the bushes and crept quickly up to the entrance. Naturally, it was unlocked which only made me more uneasy. Janson just shrugged and entered the poorly-guarded stronghold. I followed, alert as ever.

Once inside, we followed the winding corridor around, passing a huge open shaft whose low, ominous humming labeled it one of those huge, underground power generators. Let's see, potentially dangerous? I think yes. Well, at least they thought to put up a guardrail.

We followed the walkway around the edge of the mechanical monstrosity to a single, nondescript door. Janson leaned his ear to it for a few seconds and signaled to me. Three occupants, none aware of us…yet. Terrific. So without any further delay, I threw open the door, and Janson charged in ahead of me, blaster rifle at the ready. I followed carefully, finding myself in a large room with a massive computer console in the center of it. Hmmm, must be the command center.

Behind the console sat two bewildered lab technicians, one on either side. But in the middle stood a tall, striking blonde woman with cold, grey eyes, hard, battle-worn features, and a faded military jumpsuit that did little to hide her athletic, yet still undeniably feminine, figure. It took me a second or two to place her face, but then I remembered her. I saw her holo during my debriefing with Admiral Ackbar. She was Zenna Krae, former captain in the New Republic Infantry and currently, the leader of a small cell in the Peace Brigade. However, I recognized that **voice** immediately. Her sweet, smoky alto stuck in my head the second I heard it ooze out of the speaker in the turbolift back on Corellia just before it dropped. It was sultry, yet at the same time, extremely unsettling.

"Gentlemen, how good of you to grace us with your, uh, presence," she said, eyeing both of us up and down with a hungry smile. Jeez, this chick really needs to get laid.

"Friend of yours?" Janson asked me. The next moment she pulled a heavy blaster from her hip and trained it on his crotch.

"More a friend of a friend," I replied.

"Right," he said, looking a tad more nervous than a second before.

Just then two, burly Vong warriors stepped out from the shadows behind us, brandishing their trademark, hissing amphistaffs. Janson shot me an anxious look. I guess he thinks I'm the expert on situations like this. Humph, snubfighter pilots. They never spend enough time out of the cockpit to be comfortable in small-arms shootouts.

"Suggestions, Marv?" he asked.

"Yes, Marv, can I call you Marv? What do you plan to do now, sugar?" Zenna taunted me.

I weighed my options. Option one: We make nice with the friendly, Peace Brigade lady and kindly ask her if we could blow up her pretty turbolaser. Or Option two: We shoot it out here and now and figure out how to blow the place later. Hmmm, let's think here, kids.

You guessed it, the inevitable happened, and a tense, heart-pounding, close-quarters firefight ensued. But they wouldn't get the jump on us that easily. Janson jumped to the left, taking a knee and firing a short burst of super-heated energy at Krae, narrowly missing her head as she ducked behind the console.

Meanwhile I whirled around, drawing my DL-22's and plugging one of the warriors in the chest, knocking him on his back a couple meters away, and dodging a razorbug thrown at me by the other. Unfortunately, the next second, the first one was back on his feet, unharmed except for the sizable burn scar visible on his yorik coral breastplate. Great, this is gonna be a long day.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Janson barely dodge a blaster bolt aimed for his shoulder followed by a glimpse of blonde hair ducking back down behind the console. He cursed in mounting frustration. "Ah, stang it! You know her; you shoot her!" Then he turned and unloaded a long burst from his rifle, catching the second warrior right above the neck and effectively decapitating him. The alien's massive body slumped sickly to the floor. A thick stream of black, foul-smelling blood oozed from his neck, forming a puddle on the tile beneath him.

Well, alright, Janson! I took that display as a good hint and obeyed the admiral's wish. Turning sharply to the left, I dove and rolled on my right shoulder, coming up to a knee against the console, directly opposite my pretty, blonde friend's hiding place.

"Impressive acrobatics, stud," I heard from behind the console as a blaster bolt sizzled past my left ear.

"Thanks. Learned it back at the academy," I replied, raising up and firing off a few return shots myself.

There was silence for a few seconds. Had I gotten her? Only one way to check, buddy. I cautiously raised my head above the lip of the console, and… **BLAM!** Congratulations, Marv! You almost got your head blown off! Don't worry, your eyebrows should grow back in time.

I hurriedly ducked back down and cursed the blonde, "Just die already, will ya!"

"Make me, loverboy!" came her cheeky reply.

Just keep your cool, Marv. Don't let her get to you. Focus. **BLAM!** Emperor's Black Bones! That dirty, no good w— I glanced back to check on Janson. There, see Marv, he's not doin' much better. He and the remaining Vong had ended up out in the hallway. The scarhead had him pinned up against the wall, an amphistaff pressed firmly across his throat. Janson struggled for air as best he could, but the warrior was too strong for him. I saw the life starting to fade from the admiral's eyes as he began to slowly choke to death. Come on, Janson. Hang in there till I get an opening to help ya!

I waited until Krae needed to reload again, then I turned back and fired a shot vaguely in their direction. It didn't come close to hitting anything, but luckily, it was enough to distract the Vong while at the same time giving Janson a chance to act. With battle-tested speed, he ducked and slid between the big guy's legs, rolling towards the more open space at the end of the short hallway. With his opponent now perilously close to the safety railing, the warrior saw this as the perfect time to charge. He pushed off the wall, launching himself at the smaller man with enough momentum to carry them both over the side.

The warrior's death yell was long and loud, echoing down the shaft before being swallowed up by the awesome fury of the generator's core. And after the resulting explosion, I was sure the admiral was a goner, too. But a few seconds later, a gloved hand firmly grasped the rail. Then another. Then Janson's head became visible, and the pilot pulled himself back up and over the railing with fierce determination burning in his tired eyes. Janson dropped hard to the deck at that point and gave me an exhausted wave of assurance. His flightsuit was singed a bit, maybe, but otherwise, the admiral was unharmed.

You never cease to amaze me, old man. Maybe things are looking up for us after all. I took that as the cue to make my move. Well, that and the fact that I heard Krae behind the console loudly cursing her newly-jammed blaster. I vaulted dramatically over the console and stood over the kneeling woman, both my DL-22's aimed straight at her kriffin' head.

"Fun's over, lady. Give it up now, or I won't hesitate to blast you right here," I demanded roughly.

"Okay there, sugar. No need to be hasty. I surrender," she assured me, hands up weakly.

Naturally, I didn't believe her for a second. I watched her closely while calling over my shoulder. "How we doin' back there, admiral?"

"Fine, fine," he said hoarsely, "just shoot her already so we can go home, huh?"

I considered it for a moment. Would anybody really miss her? I would be doin' the galaxy a favor, right? But before I could decide she threw her hands up outstretched in front of her face and winced in anticipation.

"Wait, wait, wait! I have valuable information for the New Republic Military. Here," she said, indicating a jumpsuit pocket with her eyes. Ah, what the hell. You already have your blaster on her, old man. If she's stupid enough to try something at this point, then it's her fault. I nodded for her to continue, so she retrieved a datacard slowly from her pocket and handed it over saying, "It's all on there."

"'It' being what, exactly?" I asked skeptically.

"Plans, for, uh, for a political sabotage at Adm. Ackbar's press conference on Coruscant three days from now. I don't know all the details, but they said it would effectively rip the New Republic in half, making it that much easier for the Vong to win the war," she explained feverishly. Hmmm, should I trust her or not? She was sweating bullets, eyes darting nervously back and forth, searching desperately for a way out of this situation. Best to be safe here and take here with us.

I holstered one blaster and reached for the card, but I quickly grabbed her wrist instead saying, "I think you're coming with us just in case, dearie." I looked back over my shoulder, "Janson, find something to tie her up with. She might try to esca—"

But when I turned back to her, she had already pulled a hold-out blaster from her left boot. She swung it to aim at my heart, so I let go of her wrist and leapt backward, clipping my right foot on the console and landing clumsily on the deck behind it. Zenna then raised up and leaned over the console, apparently not considering an unarmed Janson that much of a threat at all. She aimed her small weapon at me with a wicked grin on her handsome face. She thought she had me, but this woman had never messed with **Marv!**

Before she could blast me, I brought my remaining gun around, gripped it tightly in both hands, and pulled the trigger. The bolt caught her in the gut and launched her back against the wall behind her. With the sheer force of the point-blank blast, she bounced back off the wall and landed, doubled over, on the console.

Janson came to help me to my feet, threw my arm over his shoulder, and we started slowly for the door. We hadn't gotten three steps before I heard a pain-filled grunt from Zenna behind me followed by the tell-tale "SMACK" of an emergency panel being slapped. The next moment I heard a polite, distinctly mechanical female voice come over the building's PA.

"Self-Destruct Sequence Initiated. Destruction will commence in T-minus, two minutes."

"Ah, jeez," I said aloud. I heard Janson behind me, cursing vehemently. "Admiral, calm down, sir! We have to get Capt. Krae and get out of here, and fast."

"What? Are you crazy, son? She just tried to kill you two seconds ago!"

"I'm well aware of that, sir. And while she's definitely not on my favorites' list, Krae is still a criminal and must be put behind bars. Besides, she may very well have information vital to the New Republic, so it could be a big mistake to just leave her," I replied.

He looked conflicted for a second then said, "Oh, alright. But that ankle of yours is in bad shape. Run on ahead, son. I'll get her."

And so we took Krae into custody and got out of there just before the whole place went up in a huge ball of fire. The three of us would have been toast for sure if Yuri hadn't come swooping in with the shuttle at that exact moment to pick us up. As we zoomed out of there, I looked out the viewport and saw the biggest explosion I'd ever seen. Stang, the girl may be a mouthy, little brat, but she's sure got some durn good timing when it counts.

The shuttle streaked through the atmosphere, and in less than a minute, we were finally back in orbit and ready to get the kriff outta there. Yuri laid in a quick course for Coruscant as per Zenna's hurried explanation earlier. I mean, sure, we could have sent a tight-beam message via the long-range comm, but with some of the ship's systems still offline, we couldn't be sure it would make it that far. And we needed to warn Ackbar before the Peace Brigade's plan went down in a big, disastrous way.

But, as luck would have it, our happy, little ship was yanked out of hyperspace en route by a massive Yuuzhan Vong Invasion Force. Which brings us plunging headlong back to the present, folks. Welcome to the kriffin' space circus.

Y'know, facing impossible odds with almost no chance of survival, normal people would have surrendered immediately and pleaded for their sniveling, pathetic existences, but not me, no. I was determined to find a way out of this seemingly hopeless situation, by the skin of my teeth if necessary. I got us into this mess, and durned if I wasn't gonna find a way out of it.

I turned to Janson, sitting behind me in the cockpit. "Hey Admiral, we're gonna need some help with these skips if we plan on living thru this one. You up for it? There's an A-Wing in the cargo hold; she's yours if you'll have her."

"Don't mind if I do, kid. Sure you two'll be okay?"

"Please," she sighed from beside me. "This is nothing. I don't know about him, but I can handle this mess no problem."

Jeez. Cocky, lil' brat. But I ignored her comment and turned back to answer Janson. "Yeah," I said, "Yuri and I got it covered here. Good hunting, admiral."

I turned back to the viewport just in time to watch the swarms of coralskippers come streaking in from all directions, all heading straight for us. Yuri muttered something under her breath as she cut in the deflector shield and yanked the ship around into an evasive corkscrew pattern. I powered up the guns, suddenly giving some real, serious thought to the words, "slim to none."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

 _Lowan._

"There is no emotion; there is peace.  
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.  
There is no passion; there is serenity.  
There is no death; there is the Force."

-from the Jedi Code

Since the war began almost two years ago, I've found it harder and harder to live by those noble words of old. With the Vong claiming new star systems every day, it won't be long before they've enslaved the entire known universe. I have to admit, I've been feeling a certain hopelessness lately, the magnitude of which I can't describe. It's gotten so bad, I've started questioning my role in all this. I know that a Jedi shouldn't think like that. He should be calm, serene, dedicating his life to defending the helpless at all costs, never dwelling on his own fears and frustrations. But sometimes, I'm not so sure I can live up to that heroic ideal. The strain of war has started to take its toll on me, and I can't say for sure when the stress might just overwhelm me completely.

It's not like I haven't been doing my part, but my accomplishments to date just seem so insignificant, so inconsequential when compared to the big picture. I mean, what have I really done to turn the tide against the invaders? Sure, I saved a few holovid actors from certain death at the hands of the cowardly Peace Brigade, but that was with the help of a small team of highly-trained CorSec officers. I just foiled an assassination attempt on Adm. Janson, but again, only with the help of Marv, an insanely brave detective, also CorSec. I've even been asked by the Masters' Skywalker to train my own padawan apprentice, but still, I failed them and her when she was captured a week ago during the feverish dogfighting at the Battle of Kalarba.

And now I've been asked to act as Admiral Ackbar's personal bodyguard for his press conference on Coruscant set to take place in only three standard hours. I can only guess how I'm going to screw this one up. All the same, though, I'm sure I'll find a way.

The starlines shrank back into fixed dots of light as we came out of hyperspace. I heard the insistent buzzing of my comlink on the desk in my quarters on the Admiral's private shuttle, _Jesmin's Pride_. Reluctantly, I snapped out of my reflective trance and crossed the small room to answer the call.

"Hey nerfherder, we've reached the glittering, upper orbit of Galactic Central. Everything alright over there?" asked Zee from his A-wing flying escort just off our starboard wing.

"I'm fine, Zee. Just sorting things out, is all," I lied, hoping he wouldn't pick up on my uneasiness in the Force.

"Y'know, dude, there is such a thing as 'over-analyzing the situation.'"

Stang. "I know, I know. It's just…"

"Hey man, we'll find her. Relax," he offered reassuringly. "I bet you're not the first new master to misplace their apprentice. Matter of fact, I read in the files at the Academy Library that Master Kenobi had all sorts of problems keeping his padawan in check."

"Since when did you learn to read, Zee? Have you been putting those long hours in hyperspace to good use for a change?"

"I'll have you know that my starfighter simulator is very similar to those used by Rogue Squadron, buddy!" Zevan L'oht retorted in mock-offense.

"Whoa, don't get your robes in a bunch, my friend. I was just kidding. Thanks for flying us in. I'll give you a call after the conference. Tell Syni I said hi, okay?"

"You always were sweet on my mom, you sicko. Take it easy, buddy. Rogue Leader, out." With that, his A-Wing peeled away from the shuttle's course and started a lazy spiral down to the planet below.

Rogue Leader? Who's he trying to kid? Still, maybe he's right. Maybe I am worrying too much. Sometimes I wish he wasn't so adept at sensing emotions through the Force. I mean, jeez. Can't a guy just wallow in his own self pity for a while? But, truth be told, I don't know what I'd do without people like him around. Anyway, I can meditate on all that later. Besides, the pilot just announced that we're about to begin our descent to the planet. So I put on my best sabacc face and began preparing myself for the long and arduous process of galactic politics.

Once we'd cleared the upper atmosphere, I headed up to the cockpit to catch a fleeting glimpse of the awe-inspiring cityscape for which the New Republic's capital was known. I don't know what it is about this place, but I'll never get tired of gazing at the towering skyhooks, the immense buildings, and the almost endless stream of airspeeders heading every which way along innumerable sky lanes. I guess the small-town boy in me will never truly die.

We docked the shuttle and took a private air taxi from the spaceport to the always bustling political district. From there, we switched to a shuttlebus that carried us the rest of the way to the enormous building that, until just a couple decades ago, housed the Imperial Senate. Y'know, it's crazy to think of just how often the balances of galactic power can shift in only a generation or two.

A short, ten-minute walk thru the veritable maze of corridors of the lower levels, and we arrived at the main dais which, when activated, would raise us swiftly up and out, finally coming to rest at its reverent place at the very center of the vast, open space that was the famous, Senate audience chamber. The Admiral took his place at the central podium, and I sat behind him and slightly to the right, so as to be both readily at hand yet discreetly out of the spotlight. Knowing this would take a few hours at the very least, I did my best to settle in and get comfortable.

Unfortunately for me, I was instructed by the Jedi Council to wear my ceremonial dress robes for the occasion. Now, normally I'm not one to complain about such mundane discomforts, especially since the hunter-green ottegan silk of the inner robe and the almost-olive cotton undertunic were soft, breathable, and actually quite comfortable to wear for long periods. The heavy, greenish-brown synthwool of the outer robe, however, was anything but. Add to that the general humidity, not to mention the combined stench, that came from having hundreds of diplomats, senators, and their aides, all of different alien species, all assembled in the same room, and after a short while the overall effect was pretty overpowering.

Still, it could've been worse. I was sure of that. And I am a Jedi, a Master now, in fact. I have a duty to represent the Order in the best possible light at all times. And that means that I cannot afford the luxury of holding my nose or searching for something in the speaker's box with which to fan myself.

The Jedi Order has an image to uphold, one of vigilance, strength, and serenity, and now more than ever, I have to marshal my own thoughts and actions accordingly. Not merely because I'm a new appointee to that venerable position of authority, but more so, because anti-Jedi sentiment is rising throughout the galaxy. The citizens of the New Republic are beginning to believe the Vong's lies more and more every day. Warmaster Tsavong Lah has promised the galaxy an end to the Vong invasion in exchange for the surrender of all its Jedi defenders. And too many foolish people across too many star systems now believed him. More than that, they have begun to fulfill their part of his bloody bargain.

It's getting so bad these days that many Jedi are operating strictly under deep-cover. Some are even considering going into hiding until this whole war is finally over, as cowardly as that sounds. I can't blame them though, try as I might. Recently, even I stopped wearing my lightsaber in public in the desperate hope of keeping a low profile for the time being. I am scared, I'll admit it.

Still, I have to wear the mask of bravery and determination despite my own fear. Any sign of weakness or uncertainty we show now will only fuel the fires of contempt and mistrust. The Yuuzhan Vong have, rather effectively, put us Jedi on thin ice with the very beings we have sworn to protect. I know as well as my Force-bonded brothers and sisters that that fragile surface of trust could be shattered with but a single, careless, yet indescribably costly misstep.

But the galaxy's trust in us isn't the only thing beginning to fracture. Lately, a rift has started to form between the Jedi Order itself. A rift, that will soon open into a full-blown fissure of doubt and mistrust. Two factions are developing within the Order, that of the cautious, morally-conscious defenders led by Master Skywalker, and that of the more reckless, vengeful aggressors led by Master Kyp Durron.

I guess it's obvious which camp I've decided to side with. Others have chosen not to take a side. Some have gone so far as to leave the Order entirely over staying as a willing participant in this Jedi civil war that's coming closer to boiling over with each passing day. Including my friend, Krieg Resoloy, a strong Jedi and a good man. The Order will surely suffer with the loss of honest, Force-sensitive men and women like him. But like Master Skywalker has said over and over again, "Anger is not the answer. Attack is not the answer, and retribution most cer tainly is not. We are Jedi. We defend, we support." I only hope that we'll figure out how to work together before the Vong enslave us all.

Anyway, I have to stop dwelling on things I have no control over. A Jedi must listen to the will of the Force, but not at the expense of the present moment. I forced myself to focus on the Conference. It wasn't easy, but I tried. I could already feel an itch beginning to burn between my shoulder blades. I tried using a simple, Jedi-relaxation technique in an attempt to quell the gnawing sensation, but to no avail. Those government-issue airscrubbers were likewise useless. Remember, Lowan. _There is no emotion; there is peace._

Minutes passed like days as I sat there, outwardly calm, barely fighting off sleep and an almost unfathomable boredom. That gnawing itch between my shoulders quickly spread like wildfire, blazing halfway down my back. Even in my days serving as an Advisor for CorSec's Special Investigations Division, I was never one for politics. If you ask me, it's all just a bunch of self-important people bickering back and forth about nothing for days, weeks even, usually with no measurable end result. No, politics are definitely not for me. As long as someone's in charge that not a complete moron, I'm fine not knowing the particulars.

Though admittedly, the current Chief of State, the Bothan Borsk Fey'la, does have his clawed hands full with the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion. I don't envy that man, I'll tell you that. But now that I think about it, the galaxy did seem to be in much more capable hands when former Chief of State Organa-Solo was still running the show. I guess for her, like me, family comes first.

I can still remember vividly the last time I saw my own family. They had all gathered in the basement of my favorite cantina back on Corellia. We were celebrating my most recent success, overseeing the discovery and extermination of that Peace Brigade Hideout down in Blue Sector. We laughed and drank the night away, not leaving until the owner threw us out sometime around two or three the next morning. "Yep, good times," I said as a smile crept across my tired face.

But even a fond memory like that didn't change the fact that I was now stuck here playing mercenary, albeit for the legendary Admiral Ackbar, but still. It was getting to the point where I really felt like bashing my head into a durasteel wall just for the heck of it. It wouldn't be a very Jedi-like thing to do, I know, but at least the pain might give me something else on which to focus my attention. Suddenly, like an answer to my unspoken prayers, my comlink chirped softly in my pocket. I hated to answer it at a moment like this, but hey, it could be important, right?

Slowly I stood, gritting my teeth against the instant, shooting pain of pins and needles in my legs, and politely excused myself to the few others seated behind the speaker's podium. Next, I located the emergency exit hatch, discreetly popped it open, and climbed down thru it. I then squeezed myself into the quickslide evactube and crossed my arms tightly over my chest.

My body weight activated the pressure sensors in the tube, and a moment later I was sucked downward at rapid velocity. The anti-grav panels at the bottom of the chute slowed my descent a matter of seconds later at the last few meters, and I landed on the built-in crash cushion a bit roughly, but not hard enough to break anything. Still, what a ride. I stood quickly and slapped the release panel on the exit hatch, unclipping my comlink from my utility belt as I did so and holding it up to my lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

"Lowan here," I said.

"Jedi Colaf, this is General Antilles. I have an urgent message for you from Officer Dwight Hartigan," buzzed the tiny speaker on the end of the device.

By the Force, what had Marv gotten himself into now? A small part of me didn't want to find out. I closed my eyes and sighed, "Patch it through, sir."

A few moments later I heard a faint, broken message coming over the line.

"Attent…ew Repub…his is Off..cer…artigan, CorSe…under attack… Vong…off of..rentaal…urgen…essage…ing Ad…Ack…ress Conf…Cor..scant. Send…ata now…Sithspawn…ook at th…ize of tha…ing…old on, peop…is is gon…et rough."

"Did he say something about Ackbar's Conference, sir?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so, Colaf. Our analysts—"

"Where did that transmission come from, General?" I asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Despite my rude interruption, Antilles' response sounded only somewhat offended. "Brentaal IV, we think. But we're still working on an exact loca—"

"How long ago was that message sent?" I demanded, oblivious to anything but the safety of my friend in that moment.

"Uh, a little over an hour ago," he replied, now sounding just a bit annoyed at my repeated interruption.

"And what's the situa—"

"Lowan, focus!" he admonished me, immediately sounding like a disappointed father-figure.

"Excuse me, sir. Forgive my rudeness. Please continue," I said, immediately regretting my selfish line of questioning.

His voice returned to the gentle confidence for which he was known. Antilles continued, "It's okay, son. I've been worried about friends in war since before you were born. I'm sure the Force will be with yours wherever he is.

"Anyway, the press conference. Our analysts in the NRI have reviewed the data sent with Hartigan's transmission and discovered that the Peace Brigade has been collaborating with a senator to carry out several Intelligence missions for the Yuuzhan Vong. They haven't unmasked the traitor yet, but they have uncovered a plot to politically assassinate Admiral Ackbar and consequently, split the New Republic in half," he said, concern evident in his tone even over the comm.

"And to discredit the Admiral effectively," I continued, thinking aloud, "they'd have to do it in front of a large assembly of people like a…like…a…"

"like a Senatorial Press Conference at the galaxy's capital," he finished.

"Sithspit," I sighed in exasperation.

"You said it, Colaf. But it gets worse. We can't make a big fuss about this; that'll warn the spy. So that means you're on your own, son."

"I had a feeling you were gonna say that, sir."

"You reading my mind there, Jedi?" he asked in a feeble attempt at humor.

"It doesn't take Jedi senses to see the impossible before you, sir," I replied with ample cynicism.

"Stang it, Lowan! Look, I know how hopeless this whole thing sounds, but I'm counting on you, here. Hell, the **entire New Republic** is counting on you. If we don't stop this thing before it starts, dozens of systems could up and surrender to the Vong. By the Force, son, we need a miracle. So get your head out of your shebs and show me why Corran keeps raving about you."

"What did you say?" I demanded, a touch of anger creeping into my words. I immediately sensed my misstep, though, and tried to cover it with, "Uh, sir."

"You heard me, Colaf. Like you were his own son, sometimes. Says you've more than earned those Corellian Jedi Medallions he had minted for you a few months back. So don't you think for one second that you can pull that 'reluctant hero" stuff on me and get away with it. You read me, kid?"

I hesitated slightly before answering, "Yes, sir. Loud and clear. Thanks for the pep talk."

"Don't mention it," he said. "May the Force be with you."  
"Thank you, sir. I'm sure it will."

A faint click from my comlink signaled the end of the call. So, Master Horn raves about me like I was his own son? A voice in the back of my head immediately told me the general only spoke the words to inspire me to complete my mission. But what if he didn't? Could Corran really believe in me that much? What would he think of me if I let him down? I breathed a heavy sigh. Meditate on it later, Lowan. You have a job to do.

The first question, though, is how to do it? And even if you figure out a way to locate the saboteur, how in the world will you ever be able to stop him in time? You could have a half hour at best. At worst, maybe a few minutes. Stop it. You can ponder those pointless "what if" scenarios later. Right now, time is of the essence. Think, Lowan, think. You are a CorSec Special Advisor and a Jedi to boot. If anyone can do this, you can. _There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Okay, now. Focus. Feel the force. Let it wrap you up in its warm embrace. Yes, that's it. Now, forget how huge this building is. The Force is all-encompassing. It knows no boundaries. Another deep breath. Search for something deceptive, cunning, devious. Wait a second, you're in a building full of politicians here, remember? Talk about a needle in an Agamari haystack. No, there must be another way.

The computer terminal across the hall. I could search the database for anything suspicious. Logging in as a guest, I used the Admiral's emergency code to bypass security. Ok, let's see, here. Catering, Internal Affairs, Personnel Records, Aha! Conference Registration History. Hmmm, it would have to be someone affiliated with a senator and registered fairly recently. Stang, 150 hits. No luck there. What am I missing here? Come on, Lowan, see the whole picture. If you were a senator that wanted to smuggle somebody into the New Republic Capital, how would you disguise them?

I centered myself in the Force, letting its gentle waves wash away my tension and frustration. And suddenly it hit me. It'd be too risky to register the saboteur for the Conference, that'd leave a trail right back to the senator who hired him. No, they'd have to be more subtle. Like tacking him onto Janitorial Detail, or better yet, the Maintenance Crew. Then he would have a certain, uniformed anonymity as well as a rock-solid excuse to basically roam free throughout the building. But how would that help him broadcast the smear message to the entire Senatorial Assembly? Duh. The Media Control Center. He'd have to get there by way of the ventilation system in order to get past security. And there haven't been any reports of anyone finding vents left mysteriously open, so he must've gotten in through one of the ducts above the stalls in the refreshers.

I pulled up a schematic of the building and scanned the screen for the Control Center. Okay, Media Control is on Deck 42, and the closest refresher stations are on 37, 38, and 45. Hmmm, crawling through at least three decks of cramped, dusty airshaft would be slow going at best. I may still have a chance, if only I can get there in time.

Quickly downloading the building plans to my datapad, I sprinted to the nearest turbolift bay as fast as my boots would carry me. I hurriedly slapped the "Up" button then did my best to wait calmly for the car to arrive. As soon as the door started to open I fairly lunged inside. Pressing 42 a little harder than I had intended, I settled in for the short ride up the transparisteel shaft. Focus now, nerves will only cloud your judgement. Absently, I reached down to the lightsaber at my belt, instantly comforted by its smooth, familiar hilt. _There is no passion; there is serenity._ I just hope the Force is with me today.

The doors opened again, and every fiber in my being wanted to leap from the lift and charge down the hall, lightsaber blazing. No, play it cool. You don't want to alert him to your presence. I took a breath. Okay. I calmly stepped from the lift, my arms folded gently across my chest, hands hidden serenely within the billowing sleeves of my outer robe. There were two security guards, one on either side of the door up ahead. I had to deal with them quickly and quietly if I hoped to catch the saboteur in time.

"What are you doing up here, sir? Is there a problem?" the tall one asked as I approached.

No time to explain the situation; do something. Quick! "No problem, Officer. I'm just checking on things up here, that's all," I said, sending assurance and certainty to him through the Force.

"But sir," the shorter and obviously more experienced one said, "we have explicit orders not to admit anyone into the Media Control Center during the Conference."

By the Force! "Those orders do not pertain to me," I said with a slightly stronger nudge this time.

"Those orders do not pertain to him," he said to his buddy with a somewhat glassy look in his eyes.

"I have business within."

"He has business within."

"Let me pass."

"Let him pass. Let him pass," he said, a slight irritation growing in his gruff, tired voice.

The guards stepped aside, the tall one swiping his access card thru the reader beside the door. I gave them a gracious nod and slipped easily inside, the door whirring shut behind me. A moment later my eyes adjusted to the dim, neon lighting, and I noticed a few female control board operators lying crumpled on the floor beside their workstations. What in the name of the Force has happened here? Then I smelled it, a sweet, noxious fume that burned my throat and stung my eyes. Poisonous gas. Sithspawn! It was getting harder to breathe by the second. Don't panic, you fool. Hold your breath…Good. Now, get to the ground; it's probably thinner down there.

Okay. Now what? I paused for a moment to wrap myself in the protective embrace of the Force. At the same time, I knew I had to come up with a plan and fast. What's that? Up there. In the ceiling. A faint whirring, like a vibrodrill. The air duct. The saboteur. Keep quiet. Try not to cough; you'll lose any chance of surprise. Just wait.

I heard the tiny ping of four screws hit the floor, then a loud CLANG! as the vent cover swung down into the room. A figure dropped noiselessly to the floor. I could barely make him out through the bluish haze, but the oversized ears, bulbous eyes, and suction-cup antennae were unmistakable. A Rodian. He wore a gas mask and had a small satchel slung across his back. He was also covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, but he made no attempt to brush himself clean. Humph, I guess he doesn't mind getting dirty.

Ever so slowly, I crept up behind him, fully aware of his species reputation for having keen senses. I had to take him out quickly. It was only a matter of time now before I would succumb to the poison in the air.

I watched him carefully as he unslung his pack and rolled it out on the console in front of him, pulling out various instruments and small electronic devices from the pockets within. I'd never seen equipment like this before, but I had to assume it was for breaking into and altering computer systems when he put them to work on the console before him. His methodical resolve and impressive dexterity told me he's done this before, more than a few times. I saw him pull out a datacard, and I knew then it was now or never.

Reaching behind my head, I grabbed a handful of hood wool and pressed it firmly against my nose and mouth. Then I stood and ignited my lightsaber. He wheeled at the signature sound and pulled a blaster from his belt. I easily deflected the first bolt into his right knee, then I closed the distance between us in two quick strides. He fired again, but I dodged the shot and, in one sweeping motion, neatly sliced his blaster in half. Then I laid my glowing blue blade deftly beneath his chin.

"Hand it over, buddy," I croaked, my words muffled slightly through the thick synthetic fabric. Unfortunately, though, they failed to land with the kind of authority I was going for.

He hesitated for a second until it dawned on him that I could dispose of his gas mask with a just a simple flick of my wrist. I took my hand from my face, hacking slightly as I did, and grabbed the card. He didn't move an inch. No doubt he was too busy processing the realization that when I effortlessly cleaved his blaster in two, it could have just as easily been his hand. I carefully pocketed the card, feeling dizziness and a gut-wrenching nausea start to set in.

"Move," I said, directing him to the door, my lightsaber still centimeters from his thin, green neck. He complied without question this time, and we walked, him shuffling along nervously, and me drawing heavily on the Force to sustain my last few microbes of oxygen until we reached the other side of the door. However, I really wasn't sure if I would actually make it that far without first succumbing to suffocation or the poison itself. Still, I had no choice but to keep going, one thought repeating over and over in my mind. _There is no death; there is the Force._

Upon exiting the room with my new prisoner in tow, I found the two security guards from earlier. They stared at us, dumbfounded, obviously unsure of what to do next. After nearly hacking up a lung, I looked up wearily, fixing the shorter man with a penetrating stare nonetheless. "This man…is a member of the Peace Brigade," I said, my voice now no more than a ragged, wheezing whisper. "We need him alive…for questioning. Tell the Admiral…the target…is…neutra…lized…Uhhhh…"

And darkness finally overtook me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

 _Marv._

This was just not my day. I was flying a Rebellion-era rust bucket of a shuttle against endless hordes of coralskippers, my co-pilot in this mess was barely out of flight school, and to top it all off, I hadn't had a deathstick in days. And you know what? I was really starting to doubt we'd even make it out of this at all. That's right, old man. Looks like the end of the world's here, and you went and got yourself a front row seat. Still, 's not like it's the first time. You've stared death in the face plenty of times before. Haven't you, Marv?

The whole of space outside the cockpit was filled with skips. Janson had to be crazier than I was to think he could make much of a difference out there with a single A-Wing. Hero of the Rebellion or not, we were still only two ships against hundreds of them. Stang it, man, you're a Corellian, same as me! I mean, I know we, as a people, have always had that cocky, "never-tell-me-the-odds" approach to dangerous situations. But you know as well as I do that that's because we've already calculated 'em in our head long before other people get the bright idea to bring it up. And though I'd never admit it out loud, I couldn't lie to myself any longer. Maybe your luck finally has run out, Marv ol' boy.

"Yuri, get us out of here!" I commanded, still trying desperately to come up with at least some semblance of a game plan.

"There's too many of them!" Yuri whined with mounting terror. "We'll never make it! Do something already, will you!"

"Keep your head on, woman! We're not dead yet," I shouted at her, more out of frustrated desperation than actual confidence at this point. But no, we weren't dead. **Yet**.

"Excuse me! Me keep my head on? How about you start actually hitting a few of them while I continue to miraculously keep them off of us, and then maybe we'll have even half a chance in Kessel of surviving this at all!" she fired back, somehow still enough fight in her to bust my balls despite the serious chance we could all die at any second.

"Hartigan, listen up," Janson's voice blared harshly from the comm speaker. "Whether we live or die, we still have a duty to the people of the New Republic. So quit bickering, you two, and focus. And get that data to General Antilles before we **are** reduced to molten slag, you hear me?"

"But sir, didn't we already agree a message wouldn't make it to Coruscant before we left the Gyndine system?" I asked.

"Sadly, CorSec, we can't bank on getting out of this one alive." Well, gee, I coulda told ya that, sparky. "Face it, Marv. The fate of the New Republic depends on our people getting this intel before the bad guys have a chance to use it. So send it, to Borleias, now. And don't question me, boy!" came the admiral's sharp retort.

Without further hesitation I pulled Cpn. Krae's encrypted datacard from the inside pocket of my CorSec-grade blast vest and jammed it into the console port in front of me. Then I ordered Yuri to try to hold 'em off for a bit longer while I opened up a long-range comm channel to Borleias. "Attention New Republic Command, this is Officer Dwight Hartigan, CorSec Elite. We're under attack by a large Vong task force off Brentaal IV. I have an urgent message concerning Admiral Ackbar's upcoming press conference on Coruscant. Sending data now."

"Uh, Marv?!" I heard Yuri's shriek echoing throughout the cramped cockpit.

"What now, Yur-" Then I saw it. I had heard rumors about them, but I figured they were just that, rumors. Yet here it was, a Yuuzhan Vong Worldship. At least five times the size of the fabled Deathstar, it filled our shuttle's viewport completely, and I cursed under my breath. There was nothing but black, jagged yorik-coral, massive dovin basal tendrils, and tons of bristling plasma cannon emplacements. "Sithspawn, look at the size of that thing! Hold on, people; this is gonna get rough."

Time slowed down as the next few seconds seemed to stretch into hours. Yuri threw the shuttle through a series of crazy, evasive maneuvers until the sublights started to scream for mercy. I tried to pick off whatever targets I could with my laser cannons and specially-fitted concussion missiles, but with all Yuri's juking, jinking, diving, and twisting, the few hits I did manage were glancing at best. I couldn't blame her, though. If I were the one flying this ol' bird, you could be sure as hell that I'd be using **every** last trick I knew to stay alive. For a moment I let myself wonder just how long that R2 unit of Lowan's could keep the shields up in this kriffin' warzone.

I spotted Janson's A-Wing out of the corner of my eye, and his flying was even more impressive than that of the mouthy brat sitting next to me. I was awestruck as he took on skip after skip in an intricate dance of twisting, swirling death. It was incredible. Like the old, stubborn combat vet was everywhere and nowhere, all at once. He was better than anyone I'd ever seen. But even Janson couldn't hold 'em off forever. Still, he'd vaped eight of the durned things before sadly taking a magma missile to the starboard engine himself. I saw a brief flash of blinding light, then a peculiar warping of the space around the blast, then nothing.

What just happened? Was he gone? Vaporized? Did he pull a last second jump to hyperspace? I couldn't say for sure. But it wasn't like I had a whole lot of time to worry about it either. Suddenly, out of nowhere the ship lurched to a screeching halt, like a giant hand grabbing an insect out of the air. What in Kessel was that?

"Oh gods, the big one's got us in a tractor beam!" shrieked Yuri in absolute panic.

"Then twist out of it, will ya?"

"I can't, you moron! It's too strong. The engines are already pushing maximum capacity!"

Fierfek! That thing was even stronger than a Star Destroyer. "Don't panic, Yuri. Don't panic. Listen to me. When I tell you, kill the drives, then ram them up to full again on my mark, got it?"

"Are you crazy? The Solo Escape? How in the hells will that work in a sithstorm like this?" she asked, her panicked state only causing her to be more uncooperative.

"Trust me on this, babe. I live for crazy," I told her, hoping the playfulness in my tone would snap her out of it.

"Hey," she snapped, "who you callin' babe?"

Bingo. "You back, now? Good. On three, ok?"

"Ugh, fine. Whatever."

"ONE…TWO…THREE!"

With that, she threw the acceleration lever down, and I fired a couple

concussion missiles into the beam less than half a second later. A shudder ran thru the cockpit as we felt the grip start to loosen, and I shouted, "Now, hard to port! Full power!"

Yuri deftly complied. Belying years of practice, the young woman rammed the lever back up to max and with growing elation pulled the control yoke hard to the left. Sadly, her bliss was short-lived as moments later another invisible beam snaked out, and we were caught once again. By the Force! How in Kessel did the Solo Escape fail? It always works. Doesn't it?

Alright, no use crying about it, ol' boy. 'What are you gonna do now?' is the question. Right. Ok. What to do? What the kriff to do? Yeah, that's it. Okay. "Yuri, it's no use. Cut the engines. We'll need 'em later if we ever get another chance to escape."

She did so, but then just slumped in her pilot's seat and started sobbing quietly to herself. Poor kid. 'S a shame for someone so pretty to die so young. Maybe you could console her somehow. Aw, hell. Let it alone, Marv. Ain't gonna do nobody no good.

I bolted out of the cockpit and down the hall to the weapons locker. It wasn't a question of livin' or dyin' anymore. It was how many of them scar-faced barves I'd be takin' to hell with me. They thought they could kill my parents and get away with it. Well, they were wrong. They were **dead** wrong. They may be bigger than you, stronger too, but you've got desperation on your side. Like a Corellian sandpanther backed into a corner, you've got no choice but to lash out and kill everything in sight. Yeah, you've got desperation on your side. It's payback time. And daddy wants to get bloody, kids.

So I loaded up on blasters, grenades, blades, and a ton of ammunition. It's amazing how much kit they can squeeze into these old Imperial storage lockers. Hmmm, overkill much? Maybe. But it would work in my favor, and not much else was at the moment. Figuring I'd need a barricade or some sort of cover for the battle to come, I set to it.

After a few minutes, and a lot of heavy breathing, it was done. Not the soundest structure I'd ever seen, but it'd allow me to hold 'em off for a while. Long enough for me to cause a ruckus, long enough that they'd remember at least one thing: You don't mess with Marv and get away with it, pal. Not if you wanna live to see tomorrow. So I sat behind my makeshift wall and settled in. They'd be coming soon for sure. Nothing to do now but wait. Come on, boys. Let's see whatcha got.

It's funny, y'know? Knowing with all certainty that you're gonna die. There's this real serene calm that comes over you. Kinda like, there's nothing to worry about 'cuz whatever happens is gonna happen the way it's gonna happen. There's solace in that, I think. I dunno. Maybe I was just a failed soldier trying to justify his whole life's purpose right before the end. It didn't matter. They'd take me out, sure, but not before I gave 'em a taste of hell first. Just wished I had a deathstick before the whole thing started. Just one kriffin' deathstick.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Lowan._

Upon opening my eyes, a searing pain made me immediately regret that very poor decision. All I could see was a bright, white light. Great, it seems I got a little more "one with the Force" than I'd intended. Some Jedi I am. Wait…it was dimming…coming back into focus. I could start to make out the ominous form of a 2-1B Medical Droid looking down upon me. It was swathed in impeccable chrome plating and sporting manipulator arms and various medical instruments. Whoa, now. I hope he isn't planning to operate. I must be in a medcenter somewhere. I felt a stiff, slightly padded bed beneath me. Blinking my eyes tentatively, I looked around the room. Okay, a large durasteel utility sink, a few low durasteel tables, white nondescript walls, and that eerie, sterile, lifeless feeling. Yep, all signs point to medcenter. The droid continued to run tests on me, pausing occasionally to record information into the datapad hooked up to it on the table.

I struggled to sit up and gather some details on my current situation, but all I could manage for my efforts was a slight twitch of the neck and shoulders, accompanied by an incoherent groan of "uhhhhh." That doesn't make sense. Why am I so weak? Then I remembered. Oh yeah. The saboteur. Toxic gas. It must've really done a number on me. But how long have I been out? A few minutes? Several hours, perhaps? I couldn't be certain. It hardly mattered as just then a wave of dizziness washed over me like a Mon Calamari tidal wave, and once again, I passed out.

Some indiscernible time later I awoke to see two figures above me, the droid from before as well as my old friend, Zevan L'oht. That's weird. What's he doing here? He was supposed to report back to General Antilles on Borleias, wasn't he? Something about a vital mission requiring the unique talents of a Jedi Ace or something, right? I must be dreaming, for sure. Then the familiar apparition spoke.

"Hey buddy, for a minute there I thought we'd lost you. How ya feelin'?" he said.

"Uhh…Like I picked a fight with a Trandoshan in a cantina on Tatooine," came my hoarse reply.

"That good, huh? Well, I can't say I blame ya. You've been out for almost a week. They even had you dipped in a bacta tank for a couple of days. That poison you encountered must have been some really strong stuff."

"You don't know the half of it, Zee," I said, remembering the fierce burning in my eyes, throat, and lungs. "But I'll be alright. How are the others?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering reluctantly, "I hate to be the one to tell you, but you were the sole survivor. The others died in sickbay only a few hours after you discovered them. The medtechs said the only reason you survived must've been because you dropped into a healing trance before you lost consciousness, but even then you were critical for six days, man. Truth be told, you're lucky to be alive at all, Lowan."

The news of the crew's untimely deaths hit me like a blow to the chest. I

couldn't help thinking there was something more I could have done to prevent such a tragic loss of life, but I knew deep down inside it was out of my hands. That realization, however valid it may have been, did nothing to quell the flood of grief in my heart. Those poor, young women had their whole lives ahead of them, not to mention friends, families, their careers. Put it out of your mind, Lowan. There was nothing you could do. Then I remembered Antilles' message. Marv! Maybe I couldn't save the Media Control Crew, but I could sure as Kessel save a good friend. I just hoped he was still alive.

I looked up suddenly saying, "We have to go, now! We have to save him!"

I bolted to my feet, only to crash to the cold tile floor the next moment. Fierfek! I guess I'm weaker than I thought.

Zee rushed to my side, "Stang, man! Are you alright? You gotta take it easy. You've been really sick lately!"

I clutched his shirt front with both hands, a wild, almost delirious look in my eyes. "We have to save him," I said again, "before it's too late."

"Save who? What the kriff are you talking about?" he asked, clearly confused.

I fought to compose myself, willing my muscles to relax. After a few seconds, I explained in a much calmer tone, "Marv, he…he warned us about the sabotage. Transmitted a vital message while in the midst of a battle somewhere…B-b-brentaal…Brentaal IV. By the Force, it sounded like he was taking on an entire flotilla by himself!" I coughed hard a few times, then I waited for the sudden wave of dizziness to subside before continuing, "Without that data, the Peace Brigade's plan to tarnish the Admiral's name would have undoubtedly succeeded, and who knows what horrors could've followed in the wake of a disaster like that? The bottom line is that Marv came through for the New Republic at a crucial moment, and **the least** we can do is return the favor."

"That's crazy, Lowan! He could be dead by now," said Zee, incredulous.

"I know, I know, he very well could, but I need to know for sure."

"What's your issue, dude? Who's this 'Marv' guy? And why are you so desperate to save him?"

I looked him straight in the eye. "He's an old friend of mine from CorSec and the most selfless guy I've ever met. I have no doubt in my mind that he'd give his life to protect those he cares abou—"

"Yeah, well it looks like he got the chance to do just that, pal," he retorted, before realizing a moment later that he'd crossed the line. The sting of his last comment hung in the air, a tense silence descending between us. He sighed heavily. "Look, Lowan," he said, "I'm sorry, man. That was totally uncalled for. I guess this war has put a strain on everyone, even us Jedi. But the ugly truth of it is that noble-minded soldiers like your friend Marv die every day fighting to protect the ones they hold dear. It's not fair, but I bet you every single one of them wouldn't have it any other way.

"And that's because until we can put a stop to the Yuuzhan Vong, no one is safe. I know you want to save your friend, but what you're proposing isn't brave; it's **suicidal**. And as your best friend in the whole entire galaxy, I can't let you go through with it."

His words struck home as I sat there on the cold, tile floor of the medcenter. But even the raw truth of his words couldn't drown out the relentless screams of my conscience. And though it pained me greatly to do so, I decided to hit him where it hurts, his undying sense of loyalty. I responded with the utmost sincerity. "Zee, he's as much of a brother to me as you are. And if you recall, not long ago I went and brought **you** back from the fiery jaws of the Nine Hells. Without a moment's hesitation. This may be a suicide mission, my friend, but you can be sure of one thing. I will save Marv. And you can either watch my back or watch me die."

He looked stunned for a moment, then he sighed in defeat, "Alright, alright." And just as the resignation on his face started to twist the knife in my gut, I saw a wry smile form in its place. A moment later I heard in my head, _"but we're bringing the cavalry with us, right?"_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

I know now what I have to do. The sheer impossibility of it only serves to strengthen my already durasteel-hard resolve. It's been hours since we set course for Brentaal IV, and I haven't stopped shivering since we left that medical bay on Coruscant. I have to say, General Antilles was less than pleased when Zee contacted him with our foolhardy rescue plan. But he'd agreed to it nonetheless when we reminded him of just whom it was we were intending on rescuing. Lucky for us, Adm. Janson had a knack for getting himself into sticky situations, especially since my buddy, Marv, always seemed to be there to save him just in the nick of time. The general had had his reservations about our chances, but he couldn't argue our motivations.

So here I lay, trying without much success to stay comfortable in the cramped, crewman's lounge of our dusty, worn YT-2000 freighter, buried under a mountain of blankets, none of which could seem to retain any semblance of heat. Honestly, I'd much rather be up there in the cockpit with Zee, but until we knew if this toxin I'd inhaled was contagious or not, we had decided it best for everyone that I remain in quarantine, at least for the time being.

Besides, Zee's a very capable pilot. He can fly this old bucket with his eyes closed and both hands tied behind his cocky, little back. I'm not worried about that. I just hope that when we finally reach our destination, this sickness won't jeopardize the mission. My mission, really. A promise I made to a good friend so long ago, it seems.

I have to relax. If I don't gather my strength, I'll be of no use to anyone. But these heavy blankets did nothing to stop the chill. Invisible fingers of icy death raked up and down my skin constantly. And if that wasn't fun enough, there was also a certain, churning queasiness in my gut that grew ever stronger by the hour. I couldn't even stand for fear of being met with yet another wave of excruciating dizziness. A normal man couldn't withstand this kind of torture alone. But I'm anything but normal, and hardly alone. As always, I have the Force, a Jedi's most trusted and powerful ally. I only hope it'll be enough.

I heaved off the covers with a strangled cry. I laid there for many moments, sprawled half-naked on the cabin floor, sweating heavily, sobbing quietly to no one. How, how did it ever come to this? No, shrug it off. Focus. Remember your training. Slowly, I dragged myself back to sitting, back straight, hands on knees. I closed my weary eyes and called to the Force, wrapping myself in the infinite warmth of its loving embrace. I felt myself starting to breathe deep, full breaths. Then I was swept up once again in that familiar ocean of calming light.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Zee._

"That's it, commander. Last one," I said jovially to the trooper sitting beside me as the stars stretched into the familiar lines of hyperspace before us. "Next stop, Brentaal IV, in about ten hours," I finished in mock-exasperation.

"Yep," he said simply, his gaze remaining fixed ahead of him.

"Listen," I said casually, "I'm gonna hop on down to the galley. You want me to get you a cup of caf or something?"

"Nope," the soldier responded with that same, eerily-detached monotone. He even refused to give me the basic, common courtesy of eye contact.

"Ya sure?" I asked, deliberately prodding. This finally got him to swivel his cockpit chair around to face me with a contemptful sigh. Now, he was a big guy. You know the type: broad shoulders, no neck, arms as big as wroshyr trees, and that large, square jaw with the permanently sour expression. Yeah, he was the kinda guy that if you met him in a dark alley somewhere, you'd probably pish yourself. And if that wasn't enough to make a Wookie cry home to his hairy mama, I found myself looking down to see two steely, half-lidded brown eyes gaze up at me with a look of boredom so severe you'd think he'd invented it.

He said slowly, as if to an annoying child, "Yes. I'm fine." I took that as a good hint to leave and quickly headed out the door. Not because I was scared or anything, mind you. I just really wanted a sandwich right then. Yeah, that's it. I walked briskly down the corridor towards the teeny, little food-synth unit affixed to the wall that apparently passed for a galley on this blasted ship. Just so happened that the unit was located in a small alcove right outside the crewman's lounge, so at least I'd get a chance to check up on my buddy Lowan while I was there.

Y'know, I don't know what that big ape's problem was. I mean, this whole trip all I've done is make attempt after attempt to establish a camaraderie of sorts between me and those juiced-up commandos. And what do I get for it? I'll tell you what: a big, fat nothing! Nothing but grief, frustration, and that ever-present 'we're-too-special-to-converse-with-civilians' stare. Well, I'm sick of it, I tell you. I mean, I know I was the one who said, "Hey, let's bring the 'best of the best' along to back us up!" Well, 'best of the best', my eye! These so-called 'elite troopers' might be heavily trained and extra heavily armed, but they sure as Kessel aren't heavily kriffin' mannered! Gah!

I realized that I'd been fuming so much that I almost took the wrong corridor to the galley. Backtracking with a mumbled curse, I stomped off in the right direction again. Half a minute later, I finally spotted the food-synth as I rounded the last corner. Brightening with the sweet anticipation of juicy banthasteak, I fell into a light jog. I got within a mere two paces of my aromatic salvation when something stopped me dead in my tracks. That something was the throaty scream of a human male, and it sounded like agony on a stick. And it was coming from the crewman's lounge. Lowan!

Without a moment's hesitation I rushed to the door, slapping the release panel next to it with an unconscious flick of the Force. I leapt inside, launching myself into a diving roll and coming up in a low crouch, my lightsaber flashing over my head in a high guard, my "danger sense" kicked on to full. The room was eerily silent, not a sound to be heard, save the gentle hum of my green, glowing blade.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Lowan._

Flashes, just flashes… brief images of the past that played over and over in my head, skipping gleefully like demented children. Flickering candles amidst the fog of time, they were as real to me now as they were then. I tried to concentrate on just one of them long enough to make any sense out of it, but they just kept swirling and swirling in my mind's eye, teasing my senses without ever truly satisfying my unconscious need for understanding. Then they began to coalesce, gradually becoming substantial, gradually becoming discernable. Yes, I saw them clearly now.

Kalarba. Hosk Station. Yumi and I together. Lights, music, crowds of varied races. Holoscreens flashing. The smell of exotic food. Shopping, endless shopping. The pure, mundane bliss of it all. Walking arm in arm among the fountains. Talking. Laughing. That unspoken electricity in the air. The intimate bond of teacher and student. Then the alarms. The panicked masses. Faint, authoritative voices issuing commands for emergency evacuation. Thundering rumbles that shook the floor of the station. People screaming and running every which way. Me trying to calm them and failing. Yumi arguing with me. Then us sprinting toward the hangar. Snagging the two Zebra fighters. Flying thru start-up procedures. Bursting out into space. Vong. Lots of them. Coralskippers filling the space like swarms of angry piranhabeetles. Spewing globs of searing plasma. Diving. Twisting. Juking. Firing. And firing some more. A brief respite. The looming Vong Corvette. The crippled Carrack. A brave plan. A master's futile warning, spoken too late. The devious grutchin. Yumi in trouble. A hole in the yorik-coral hull. Huge and gaping. A panicked decision. Angling for the breach. Then silence. Oppressive and malignant. Then SNAP! back to focus.

"Attention: All New Republic Forces. Full Retreat. I repeat, full retreat!"

For a moment I couldn't believe my ears. What do they mean, retreat? My apprentice is on that huge, ungainly piece of rock over there! How could I even begin to consider turning back? I sat there incredulous for a few seconds until I heard Colonel Darklighter's harsh voice bark at me thru the crackling cockpit speaker.

"Zebra 24-Foxtrot, this is Rogue Leader. Do you read me?"

I hesitated, "My apologies, colonel. Yes, sir. I hear you."

"That's great, son," he said. "Now, you wanna tell me why you failed to steer that thing towards the nearest carrier ship just now?"

"Well, sir, it's sorta personal," I answered.

"Personal?" he demanded. "What could be more personal than getting the hell out of here before that planet collides with the station and kills us all? We've lost the fight today, son. There's no use in making yourself a martyr. Dock that ship immediately. That's an order!" Gavin said sternly.

"Wish I could, colonel," I responded with genuine sincerity, "but we both know that that's not gonna happen." The comm was silent for a few tense moments. Then I heard the tell-tale double-click of the Colonel switching to a private channel.

His voice came gently from the speaker, "Come on, kid. Don't do this. Corran would never forgive me if I let you throw your life away for some reckless student with a death wish. Please, Lowan. Head for the carriers."

"I've already told you that I can't."

"And why is that?" he demanded.

"Well, sir, Yumi is reckless, yes, some would say 'foolishly brave', but those qualities pale in comparison to her enduring selflessness. She may throw herself blindly into all sorts of trouble, but it's always with the sole intention of helping those who need it. I may not always agree with her methods, but I have never once questioned her motivation. The bottom line is this, colonel. She's my apprentice, whether I choose it or not, and as long as I'm her master I have a responsibility to instruct her in the ways of the Force and make sure she doesn't get herself killed in the process."

"Look, kid. I understand all that, but—"

"No, sir. I don't believe you could even begin to," I said sadly. "And seeing as I have neither the time nor the words to explain it right now, I guess we have nothing more to talk about. Forgive me, colonel."

"Why you little—"

But I switched off the comm before he could finish. With a sigh, I opened up the throttle and shot out, headed straight for the Vong cruiser. I hadn't gotten more than half a kilometer before my starfighter lurched to a screeching halt. My thrusters burned at full, screaming in protest, but to no avail. I was stuck, and what's worse, I was getting a sinking feeling in my gut that pointed to one, horrific explanation: Vong.

Great, in my haste I managed to fly right into the path of one of those blasted dovin basals. Nice moves, slick. I checked my sensors, and my heart sank with an even more frightening realization. It was a tractor beam, and a huge one at that, but it was coming from the nearest New Republic carrier ship. I furiously flicked the comm back on.

"Stang it, colonel! I'm not playing games here!"

"Neither am I, Master Colaf. She's gone, son. Accept it. Darklighter out," he said with finality. I threw myself back into the command couch in frustration. Hanging my head, I cut power to my engines, and waited in pained disbelief as the carrier reined me in and up thru its massive bay doors.

As the dream started to fade I heard a faint buzzing between my ears. The buzzing grew louder, taking the shape of a soft, faraway voice. The heartbreaking moan of a child, it built steadily in volume and intensity until it became a piercing, high-pitched wail. It sounded strangely foreign yet oddly familiar. Bitter, and deeply betrayed. It called out to me in a wildly accusing tone. "Lowan…Lowan! LOWAN!"

The painfully shrieking voice resolved into a soft, deranged cackling. Then I saw her. My former apprentice, turned mad with suffering and burning hatred. Her once attractive, youthful features now marred with an army of primal tattoos and festering scars. She regarded me with a callous little smirk, as if to say, 'Behold that which you created.'

I felt my gut begin to twist as a large knot grew within it. My own student. How could I ever let this happen? Personal revulsion flowed freely inside me, though that anguish soon turned to bitter enmity when I saw the beast of a Yuuzhan Vong come up from behind and place a huge, clawed hand affectionately on Yumi's shoulder. He looked at me, an eerie intensity in his dark, sinister eyes. A long, jagged spike jutted from his chin, giving him a severe look. His lidless gaze was one of cruel amusement. I watched helplessly as he tightened his grip on her soft, vulnerable flesh, the claws drawing blood that ran in little rivulets down her thin, olive arm. But instead of crying out, Yumi sighed lustily, an expression of morbid pleasure crossing her once-innocent face. And a moment later, I heard a deep, gloating voice rumble in my ears, " _She is mine._ "

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Not Yumi, not my entrusted apprentice. And the huge Vong just kept on grinning, laughing at me with that deep, bass chuckle that rumbled in my bones. Pain and sorrow bled off me now in waves. I couldn't let him do this. I wouldn't! Then there was something else, welling up in me from deep inside, quickly rising to the surface. Power. A mountainous torrent of raw energy cresting with a blind, animal rage.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

 _Zee._

It wasn't hard to sense my friend when I entered the dimly lit room. He was shining in the Force like a beacon of unbridled rage and unfathomable sorrow. I squinted hard into the darkness, my saber casting ghastly shadows along the curved walls of the cabin. Then I saw him. He was floating effortlessly about a meter off the ground, sitting cross-legged in the air, hands resting comfortably in his lap, fingers curled gently in the sign of the lotus.

Wait a second, he's floating? Corellian Jedi don't do telekinesis. Well, **can't** , really. That's a bad sign for sure. And his face, his face was anything but serene. Eyes shut tightly and jaw firmly clenched, Lowan's features twisted and contorted in unspeakable anguish. I could hear him whimpering softly in between sharp, wheezing gasps. Beads of sweat rolled freely down his tired face, his naked chest and arms glistening in the pale, green light.

I approached him cautiously, my saber held low in my right hand. The blade's soft, green glow made for an excellent, if not a little eerie, impromptu light source. Slowly now. Don't want to scare him or anything. I crept toward him a little more. Suddenly, it occured to me that I had absolutely no idea how to handle this particular situation. Try to calm him down or get him to snap out of it, I guess. A couple more tiptoed steps. Maybe I should try to get his attention or something.

I whispered encouragingly, "Hey, Lowan. Buddy, it's me. Lowan? You okay, man?"

The second time I said his name, he fell instantly silent. I hoped that was a good sign. Ever so slowly, he opened his eyes to reveal dark, red-rimmed orbs, gleaming with quiet intensity. What happened next caught me completely by surprise. His pained features turned angry, and something welled up in his throat from deep in his gut. Then he shivered with pent up energy and let out the most terrifying, full-bodied war cry I'd ever heard in my entire life.

The mere shock of it made me stagger back a few steps which turned out to be a good thing because at that moment he leapt at me, pulling his lightsaber off of his belt in one hand and sweeping it at me in a horizontal arc so fast that I had to jump back to avoid being cleaved in half. He came again, bringing his saber down in both hands in a vicious diagonal slash to my right which I only barely managed to block before it slid down and off my blade with a violent crackle of electricity. Sensing my weakness, Lowan thrusted his pale blue blade at my chest with a maniacal look in his eyes. I narrowly deflected it to my left as I stepped back again. A split-second later I realized my mistake, and he took full advantage of my open guard by pulling his left hand back and unleashing a powerful Force-shove that bounced me like a rag doll off the far wall.

I landed on hard on my knees just as he leapt straight at me, his arms raised above his head for what promised to be one wicked, downward slash. How I threw my saber up to meet it, I had no idea, but I wasn't asking. I was a little too busy at the moment trying not to die. Lowan bared down on me, a low growl rising up from deep in his throat. When I looked up into his face I saw only a crazed animal livid with hate.

His long brown hair flowed wildly about his face, making his feral, angry gaze even more intimidating. I was helpless as he pressed down upon me, and with every second he pushed my blade that much closer to my own exposed neck. Think, Zee! Come on, time is really running out here! I tried to push back against him, but gravity as well as bitter enmity was on his side, making my attempts pathetically futile.

I was only a millimeter away from personal decapitation when I gave him the desperate, wide-eyed pleading look of surrender.

"Lowan! It's me, buddy. Zee, remember? Your best friend in the whole wide galaxy? Zevan! Zevan L'oht!" I explained feverishly, screaming at the top of my panicked lungs at the end of it. Lowan paused, his brow furled in confusion as my words took a few seconds to finally hit home. Then his mask of hatefulness slowly melted away, replaced by a look of utter horror.

"Zee…" he croaked out, tears welling up once more in his sad, green eyes. He staggered back, dropping his lightsaber absently. I lowered my blade in joyous relief as he stared at me from across the small room, a look of intense regret showing on his tear-stained face. Before I could rush to help him, he sagged tiredly to the floor and passed out.

The whole scene played out in seconds, but to me it felt like hours. I finally extinguished my lightsaber and leaned back into the wall in absolute exhaustion. Whew!

"That was a close one, buddy. Try not to do anything like that again anytime soon, huh?" I joked wearily, but I knew he didn't hear me. Still, considering the circumstances I thought it felt right to sort of clear the air. I looked up from my exhausted stupor when I heard a chorus of heavy footsteps racing up the hall. A moment later, all six commandos arrived in the doorway, blaster rifles at the ready, each moving with adept precision.

The lead one waved his blaster-mounted, fusion lamp at me and asked,

"Everything alright in here, sir?" Now, they call me sir. Sheesh. "We heard some screaming down here a minute ago."

I struggled to standing and replied, "Yeah, commander, we're fine in here. Just a little Jedi issue here. No biggie."

"Would you like us to take Mr. Colaf to sickbay, sir?"

"That won't be necessary, but thanks. He just needs a little rest." The commander gave me a nod of quasi-understanding, and all six men turned as one and left the room. I hooked my lightsaber to my belt and hobbled over to pick up Lowan's, wincing from the sudden pain in my knees and back. Durn, that's gonna hurt tomorrow for sure. Now that ten-hour jump time doesn't sound quite so bad.

Grabbing his wrists with both hands, I slowly dragged my friend's limp body over to a small couch and lifted him up onto it with more than a little help from the Force. I set his lightsaber on an end-table bolted to the deck plates next to the couch, then walked over to a comfy-looking recliner and collapsed into it like a sack of Dantooinian jujatatoes, reveling in its soft, plush cushions. Sleep found me easily, and I happily dozed.

I was awoken some time later by Lowan's soft, questing voice. "Zee, are you there?" he murmured from the sofa.

"I'm here, buddy," I answered, lifting my head from the cushioned headrest with a grunt, "more or less."

He looked over at me with a sheepish smile. "I guess I should apologize, huh?"

"Nah, man," I said with a sly glint in my eye, "just let me take Aemm out sometime. Then we'll be even."

He chuckled to himself and replied, "Go ahead, dude. But be warned, man, 'cuz she's a handful. Y'know, intergalactic holovid star 'n all."

I laughed myself, glad to have my old friend back again. "Y'know me, Lowan. I'm all about beating the odds, except in sabacc since you always beat me."

"We could play a few hands," he suggested with a manipulative grin. "It **would** make me feel better."

"Oh no, I'm not gonna fall for that, buddy," I laughed. "I've already lost enough credits to you over the years. Though those commandos sure look gullible, maybe you could con them into losing a few creds."

"I don't think so. We kinda need them cooperative when we find the Vong base."

"You mean 'if we find it,'" I replied, feeling the joking atmosphere evaporate instantly the moment after I said it. But there was no going back, so I continued cautiously, "I mean, we don't even know for sure if it's anywhere near the Brentaal system anymore. You never know what those scarheads are gonna do next. They might decide to make a run on Coruscant tomorrow, for all we know."

"No," he replied, deadly serious. "Think, Zee. They're like locusts, sucking up every available resource before they move on to the next target. The Vong may be crazy, but they're also methodical. Haven't you noticed it? They've invaded system after system, slowly spreading inward from the Outer Rim to the Core. It's just like Holochess. They may have plans for Coruscant, but I'll bet you they'll bide their time conquering key worlds until their fleet is in the optimal position to strike. And then strike they will, hard."

I considered that for a second. "Well, that makes a lot of sense, but are you sure you're not just hoping we'll find this base and then by some off chance Yumi will be on it?" But I regretted saying it the instant the words tumbled out of my mouth.

He looked down, sighing heavily. Then he fixed me with a stare of quiet intensity. "She's out there somewhere, Zee. I'm sure of it." He paused for a long second, trying his best not to break down. Then he took a deep breath and continued, "But this isn't about her. It's about an old friend, one who has saved my life dozens of times. I'm not about to turn my back on him now."

"Okay, I can get that. But aren't we Jedi supposed to be protecting the lives of millions here? Come on, man! We don't have time for **personal rescue quests!** " I said in frustration. He just looked at me, not wavering an inch. "Fine, fine. We'll let the military worry about the masses for now. But the galaxy will need us eventually, even if they think they hate us right now. So, this is it, right? Last time we run off to play hero?"

Lowan just shook with silent laughter in response. "What?" I asked. "What's so funny?"

"Zee, can I ask why you always give in to my guilt trips so easily?" he asked me, a look of sly amusement spreading on his face.

I shrugged. "Well, what can I say? Either I'm a big sap, or I owe ya one."

"I'm thinking both," he said. And we both started giggling like schoolboys.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

 _Marv._

I came to and found myself in a small, dimly lit room. Well, it looked sorta like a room. The walls were rounded and had a certain slimy, smooth consistency which made me think it was probably more like the cavernous, stomach of some monstrous, alien beast. And seeing as I was being held captive aboard a huge Yuuzhan Vong worldship, that guess probably wasn't far from the truth. The air was hot and moist here, so thick you could almost choke on it, and there was a foul, persistent stench that instantly reminded me of rotten vegetables.

As I looked around to take in my surroundings I saw a couple of kids in dirty rags sitting against the far wall. Their arms were hanging out to the sides, attached at the wrists by some kind of viscous, green jelly-like substance that held them fast to the wall behind them. Their legs lay straight out in front of them, similarly bound to the floor around their fragile, little ankles. They were sweating heavily, although in this heat who wouldn't be, and they're heads hung loosely from tired shoulders.

The girl seemed to be about eight standard years old. She had long, wavy blonde hair which I guessed was normally shiny, smooth, and generally pretty. But now it was knotted, dirty and damp, hanging around her face in jelly-soaked clumps. She also wore what appeared to be Military-grade, combat gloves. I know, weird, but unfortunately for her, they didn't seem to be doing her much good anyway. Her shoulders heaved in rhythmic, wracking shudders. And though I couldn't see her face behind her long, golden curls, it wasn't hard to realize the girl was balling her little eyes out. I couldn't blame her. Pour thing being thrust into this kinda hellish situation at such a young age. I'd be crying, too. Eh, probably not though. 'Cuz I'm Marv, remember?

The boy, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. From his lanky, awkward limbs to the patchy, tufts of peach fuzz growth on his boyish face, I placed him at about twelve or thirteen. Rather than crying, though, he sat very, very still, eyes closed gently under unruly, brown locks, a calm, almost peaceful expression on his face. Stang, that kid must be mature well beyond his years. Suddenly curious, I took a closer look. And what I found upon closer inspection was anything but expected. Hanging on a tarnished chain around the boy's neck was a strange, metallic pendant. Small and round, it sorta looked like a commemorative gold coin of some sort. Blinking a few times, I looked again.

Strange, I really felt like I'd seen this kind of thing before. I couldn't exactly place it, but it was definitely familiar. I thought I remembered seeing Corran Horn wearing one of those things on the Holonews recently. Couldn't say for sure, though. Things were pretty foggy right now.

Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs, I tried to focus. That was weird. The tattered clothes the children wore vaguely resembled the filthy, beat up remains of those all too-familiar, traditional, itchy canvas robes you always saw Luke Skywalker wearing in all those official New Republic press conferences they made him give these days. Now wait a minute…Sithspawn! These were Jedi students! Why those dirty, scar-headed Vong chakaare! Capturing soldiers was one thing, but kidnapping children? When I got out of here, I was gonna make every last one of those animals pay! They picked the wrong guy to mess with this time! **I'm Marv, stang it!** And they're gonna beg for mercy when I'm done w—

' _Oh, yeah? You and what army, hotshot?'_

What was that voice in my head? Where the frik did it come from? I desperately scanned the room for an answer, finally coming to rest on the strange boy in front of me. He stared at me, eyes boring into me in a mixture of contempt and jaded hopelessness.

' _What?'_ I heard the voice say again with a twinge of irritation.

"I'm sorry," was all I could think to say, though I could tell he got my meaning before I even opened my mouth to speak.

' _Yeah, whatever,'_ he answered silently, then after a moment or two, I felt him break the contact as he looked away with a tired sigh. Humph, weird kid. Oh well. I continued to look around the room, searching for some way, okay **any** way, out of this Star Destroyer-sized mess I'd gotten myself into.

I saw Yuri next to another prisoner along the opposite wall, each hanging from some kind of horrific, Vong-grown creature with long, snake-like limbs that wrapped around their necks, wrists, waists, and ankles, suspending them from the low ceiling like bearspider victims awaiting the next, inevitable meal. The guy, most likely an unlucky Brigadier, was in extreme pain, though to his credit, he was trying to take it like a man. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes bolted shut, obviously trying to focus on anything but the pain.

Yuri, on the other hand, was in absolute agony. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat already pouring off her in buckets. Her limbs convulsed rhythmically, like she was having a seizure that just wouldn't quit. Her breath was a constant, moaning whimper, interrupted ever so often by a heart-wrenching scream, followed by a string of labored curses muttered to no one. Poor kid. She wasn't doing good.

The other prisoner said between clenched teeth, "Don't fight it! It'll only…ahh! It'll only hurt more. Ahh! Fierfek! See, I…ahh! Uh…told ya."

Only then did I realize that I was in the same trouble they were. A pulsing fire coarsed steadily thru my veins. It felt as if those snake-limbs were capable of stimulating ever pain receptor imaginable, keeping their victims perpetually locked in a constant state of excruciating, bone-jarring pain.

I pulled at the "vines" on my wrists and received a sharp spasm of electric joy in return for my efforts. Okay, Marv, don't do that again! Maybe that ol' boy over there was right after all. Or maybe not. Maybe you can break outta these things, and he just couldn't take the pain long enough to find out. I pulled again, harder this time. Hot, white lightning shot up my spine, making me flail like a wounded jellyshark. Okay, that wasn't that bad, considering. I tried again, even harder. Searing hot lava cascaded down my body from head to toe and back again, leaving me panting to catch my breath for nearly half a minute. Uh, okay, three words: Ow, ow, and kriffin' ow! Alright, alright, alright… time for a different approach.

I took a few deep breaths to prepare myself. Then I launched my entire body against the "vines", hoping the added force of all my limbs would have a better result. Wrong! Thousands upon thousands of tiny needles of pain searched out every nerve I had, stabbing them over and over again until I almost passed out from the overwhelming agony of it all. But somehow, I didn't. Hmmm, that was odd. So apparently, the more I struggle, the more the pain intensifies until I start to pass out, but then it backs off. I guess, whatever these things are, they know what my pain threshold is, and every time I'm about to reach it, they'll back off, effectively robbing me of the 'privilege' of unconsciousness. Really, what fun.

As I hung there contemplating this new revelation, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. Out of nowhere, a hole opened up in the wall to my left with a juicy SLURP! It stretched from floor to ceiling with fifteen centimeters of clearance on either side. Huh, you see all sorts of weird things on this ship, I guess. Next thing I knew, two big Vong warriors entered thru it, amphistaffs held menacingly across their bare chests with both hands. They set up shop on opposite sides of the "door" in formal guard positions. Glaring at me and the other captives in turn, they made no attempt to hide their utter contempt for us lowly "infidels."

Then another Vong followed the guards thru the open door, this one so huge that he had to stoop slightly to avoid knocking his bulbous head on the low ceiling above us. He was an imposing figure, unquestionable authority pouring off him in waves. I mean, I'd never admit it out loud, but from the moment he stepped in the room, he scared the ever-lovin' poodoo outta me. And I can't think of many who wouldn't agree with me wholeheartedly on that.

Judging by his impressive array of bold scars combined with the obvious

respect he commanded from his subordinates, I guessed this guy must be some kinda big shot within the warrior ranks. And it wasn't hard to see why. Big arms, missing lips, a prominent eyebrow ridge, and a long cloak hanging from dark hooks embedded in his shoulders. This guy was definitely a hardcore warrior, and it looked like he knew that without the slightest doubt. But his most gruesome feature, well, at least the one that immediately grabbed my attention, was the long, jagged spike that jutted from his chin. Fused to the bone at the base of the jaw, it glistened in the dim light like the severed tooth of some giant, once-fearsome, mythical beast.

He took a long moment to survey us prisoners, gazing slowly around the room before finally resting his terrible gaze on me. He dipped his head slowly in a self-satisfied nod, turned easily, and strode majestically from the chamber. On his way out, the Vong turned to one of the guards and whispered loud enough to carry throughout the small room.

"Kill them," he rumbled nonchalantly. "Save the children for sacrifice." Without another word he left, the door membrane twisting shut behind him with an audible PLOP! leaving nothing but a shriveled nub, waist-high on the wall.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Zenna._

The door membrane irised open with a slow, disgusting SLURP! admitting two disheveled prisoners into the immense room. Upon entering, we were unceremoniously shoved to the floor by the pair of large, amphistaff-wielding Vong brutes behind us. Neither of us, both unarmed, human women, made any attempt to resist the guards. No, we knew all too well how futile an effort that would be. Nor did we look up to take in the humbling view of the grand audience chamber in which we now found ourselves. A move like that would only serve to prove our inferiority to these monsters once again, and I, for one, refused to give them the satisfaction.

No, we merely waited, kneeling silently, heads bowed, on the cold, hard floor until that moment when finally the master would address us. Still nursing the fresh blaster wound in my gut, the position was even more difficult to maintain than it sounds. But lucky for me, I was almost too tired to feel it at that point. That was something, at least.

"Ladies," the deep voice rumbled from the darkness, "What news have you of the infidels?"

With the help of the translating tizowyrms that had been painfully inserted into our ears, we understood his rough, growling words perfectly. We had both been given the "opportunity" to form a somewhat symbiotic relationship with the prickly, slithering creatures back when each of us had been foolish enough to choose to betray the New Republic and serve the Yuuzhan Vong as our new masters. And though our motives may have been very different for choosing this path, the end result was always the same with the Vong. Outlive your usefulness, and you're as good as dead.

The diminutive brunette beside me was quick to respond. Taking a deep breath and keeping her gaze glued to the floor, she chose her words very carefully. "My lord…I don't know what happened…My plan was foolproof." She faltered. "They couldn't have known of Admiral Ack-"

A severely dissatisfied grumble brought her inane babbling to a screeching halt. "Spare me your excuses, Senator. This is not the first time you have failed the Supreme Overlord."

"Yes, but this time was diff-"

"Silence!" he roared, his harsh, guttural tone reverberating strongly thru the chamber, rattling her small, fragile frame with its power and authority. Her only response was to cower in unbridled terror. Pathetic woman. Absolutely pathetic. She was a glaring example of why civilians should never be appointed to leadership positions in wartime.

Addressing me next, the voice asked, "Care to excuse your failure as well, captain?" His questioning tone dripped with unabashed malice. I knew that because I've reveled in using the same tone myself on countless occasions. But he didn't scare me. I was a soldier, and I refused to be intimidated by some disfigured alien riding a sick, humiliation-power trip. Don't misunderstand me, though. I still had no illusions that the New Republic could actually win this bloody war. The Vong had far greater numbers and a ruthless efficiency that we could never hope to overcome. That is exactly why I joined the Peace Brigade. Surrender was the only option if we hoped to survive. But there was one thing I'd never give up, and that was my dignity. They'd have to kill me first.

One breath. Two. Okay, now. Keep calm. Nerves will only make you weak in his eyes. I tried to banish all emotion from my voice. "No, commander. I am prepared to accept full responsibility for my actions," I said coolly, or so I hoped.

I heard a deep, hearty chuckle in the darkness, which quickly grew to a bellow before dying down again. "A warrior to the last," he rumbled appraisingly. "I commend you for your bravery, human. It is rare among the infidels I have encountered so far."

"But, my lord," burst the senator in fierce indignation, "she failed to hold a vital outpost, ah, ah, as well as letting a key hostage escape. Without the famous pilot, my Jedi/Hostage Ransom Plan was rendered completely useless! And I don't think I have to point out that this worthless, incompetent excuse for a soldier beside me is solely to blame. She's fouled things up before on many occasions, my lord. I'm always cleaning up her mistakes. If it were up to me, she would be put to death immediately in the least dignified, and preferably most painful way imaginable! Surely, you can sense the truth in my words, master!"

As she finished her tirade, the senator shot an icy glare my way, obviously hoping to further support her back-stabbing proposal and save her own cowardly hide in the process. I could feel her venomous eyes trained on me, but I happily failed to even acknowledge her presence, as if she were merely an obnoxious child throwing yet another tantrum that would go unanswered like all the rest. This, I found, left her practically seething with rage. I drank in every second of it like a glass of fine Ryborean gax.

That anger, however, would prove to be her undoing. Suddenly, the voice in the dark leaned forward in his living throne, partly illuminating his monstrous face for the first time. The dim light from the glowing wall lichen cast an eerie glow onto his ghastly face, revealing dark, menacing features. The Yuuzhan Vong Commander fixed her with a stare so malicious that she shrank back in utter horror. His speech was slow, deliberate, and ominous.

"You overstep your bounds, Senator. As you well know, I cannot tolerate insolence. Even more than that, though, I will not tolerate failure. You have failed me several times now, Senator. And I'm afraid your usefulness is decaying with each passing breath. Still, there is one way you may continue to serve me. You will be made an example to all the other infidels who might think to disobey me, and in turn Overlord Shimmra, and even Yun-Yuuzhan himself." Then with a barely perceptible nod to the guards behind her he added, "Take this unworthy woman to the tkun. Her death shall be slow…and painful."

The guards touched their fists to opposite shoulders in salute, then proceeded to drag the condemned woman, kicking and screaming, from the chamber. I had no idea what a "tkun" was, but I was sure I did not want to find out for myself. For the moment I was still alive, and that was all that mattered. The satisfaction I felt at the other woman's long-deserved and unfortunate end was sadly short-lived. Now alone with the monstrous Vong Commander, I began to consider my own fate, and I have to admit, I started to tremble. That trembling blossomed into a full-blown quiver of fear when he stood from his throne and sauntered majestically over to my still vulnerably prostrate form.

He loomed over me, content to enjoy the steadily growing tension between us. It built and built, mounting slowly until I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat, throbbing incessantly in my ears. He was toying with me. He wanted to see me sweat under the pressure of the situation. Was he waiting for me to say something? I thought it was Yuuzhan Vong custom to stay silent until the master bids you to speak! **What am I supposed to do here?!** I couldn't take it anymore. Shivering uncontrollably, now a shadow of my former confident self, I found myself gazing upward, staring pleadingly into those big, black eyes.

"Wha…what is to become of me, m…my master?" I could barely believe it as the helpless, submissive words escaped my own trembling lips. He gazed down at me, a look of quiet respect showing on his ghastly face.

He replied in a gentle rumble, "Your fate will be decided by the gods, my dear. May Yun-Yammka smile upon you."

A single tear rolled slowly down my sweat-stained cheek in unspoken response. Once again the door membrane slid open behind me with that distinctive, juicy SLURP! It was in that moment that I knew, now more than ever, my destiny lay before me. It was time for me to earn my survival. I figured they planned on pitting me against one of their best warriors. I may even beat him and win, though I doubted very much that the Vong would actually allow me to live even if I did. Still, that hope in the Vong's warrior's honor was the only thing I had left. Nothing else mattered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

 _Lowan._

Surveying the small circle of men, I regarded each of them in turn. I saw brave looks on their faces, forcibly masking the fear and anxiety running rampant behind their eyes. These men had been thru all this many times before. The slow tightening of the gut, that pulsing, electric fire coursing thru your veins nonstop, that biting anticipation that gnaws at your senses like a rabid womprat on glitterstim. All this, intimately familiar.

But it never goes away. Ask any battle-hardened veteran over a cheap mug of lum in a seedy cantina, and they'll tell you. 'They never go away, nerves.' And if they ever did, you wouldn't want them to. Nerves will keep you alive. Without them, self-preservation suddenly doesn't mean that much. Adrenaline is a swirling maelstrom of unfocused energy. You can either use it to your advantage or get caught up in the undertow, failing to act at the last crucial moment.

Knowing the years of training and experience these men had had, it was a good bet that when the moment came, they wouldn't choke and die on me. But who knew, really? Only the Force, I suppose. At least I knew I could count on one man, a fellow Jedi and one of my best friends in the galaxy, Zevan L'oht. Even considering the near-impossible mission we'd embarked upon, I felt a whole lot surer knowing Zee was by my side. We've been thru a lot together since this war began almost two years ago, and although we haven't always agreed, we've stuck together as a team and stayed alive.

I took a long, slow sip from my caf and set it down on the small, circular dining table in the freighter's crewman's lounge. Then at the press of a button, a bluish, holographic battle plan emitted from a projector in the center, coalescing about a half meter above it. "Gents, this is it. We're set to rendezvous with the Yuuzhan Vong worldship in half an hour. You all know the plan already, but I'm gonna go over it again just to make sure we're all on the same page.

"Okay, so when we drop out of hyperspace we'll be on the far edge of the system, well away from the large, Vong task force that will most likely surround the worldship itself. Jedi L'oht will fly us in and, with any luck, down to the ship unnoticed. I know most of you probably consider a maneuver like this to be crazy, if not downright suicidal, but trust me. Jedi Aces have been known to pull off miraculous feats with a starship in the past, and Zee here is no exception. We'll be fine.

"Once we've boarded the worldship, I will lead a team of four further into the ship to locate Officer Hartigan and the others. The rest of you will remain with Zee in the hangar and guard the freighter until our return. You have all been fitted with top of the line, long-range, encrypted comlinks, so we'll be in constant contact throughout this entire mission. When we have recovered the package, we will retreat from the system with all speed. Team 1 is Riley, Johnson, Sheckil, and Bertrand. Pettri and Saper, you're Team 2. Okay, that's pretty much the long and short of it. Any questions, people?"

"Sir, exactly how big is this worldship thing anyway?"

"I wish I knew, Sheckil. At this point, we don't have any specifics on that, but according to Marv's sensor readings, we can assume this thing is at least five times bigger than the Death Star," I answered reluctantly. Silence. Heavy and oppressive. Then I heard a foreboding whistle from Bertrand across the table. He shook his head doubtfully. Stang, that could've come out a lot better.

"So, uh, sir," asked Pettri with a conspiring grin, "if this thing is that huge, how do you expect a team of four troops led by a wet-behind-the-ears Jedi Master to find **one man** on this giant, hunk of rock in anything less than a month, much less have the ammo to fend off the hundreds of warriors who would surely like nothing more than to slice us all from neck to nuts and wear our intestines for a hat?"

"Hundreds? Ha! Try thousands, man," chortled Saper, to my left. I did my best to keep a neutral expression and ignore their challenging jabs. I was used to people questioning my authority based solely on my youth and consequently assumed lack of experience. The jokes always stopped when they finally saw me in action. Then they showed a little more respect, usually combined with a mix of awe and confusion. I wasn't worried.

Riley looked up from cleaning his blaster rifle long enough to fix me with a thoughtful, somber stare. "But seriously, sir," he said, "what makes you think we have a chance in Kessel of finding this guy?" The young, broad-shouldered soldier looked at me, a fragile glimmer of hope flickering in his big, blue eyes. Judging by his pleading expression, it wasn't hard to guess his real question. 'Do we even have half a chance of getting out of this thing alive?' This kid was looking to me to be their rock, their proverbial pillar of strength and steadiness. Well then, I guess that's just what I'll have to be.

"Listen, Riley," I said with what I hoped came off as complete confidence, "Marv and I have been friends for a long time. I'll be able to sense him in the Force from a kilometer away." Another derisive snort from Bertrand. "Besides, uh, it's standard CorSec procedure to tune your comlink to broadcast on all emergency frequencies within range." Come on, Sabacc-face, don't fail me now.

I waited a few tense heartbeats. The young soldier nodded, apparently satisfied. "Okay, any more questions?" I threw a challenging glance toward Bertrand. The big man sighed, leaning back from the table and turning away disinterestedly. "Good. Make any last-minute equipment checks and proceed to battle stations. Right, men. Dismissed."

The troops stood slowly, exiting the cramped confines of the crewman's lounge in their own time. Zee stretched his arms above his head and leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated yawn. He looked at me with a smug grin on his face.

"Well, that went well now, didn't it there, chief? Y'know, I think they're really starting to respect your authority as commander of this operation," he said, just dripping sarcasm.

"Thanks, Zee. I think I've gotten my fair share of sarcastic comments already from Pettri. I can handle this," I replied, trying not to sound too defensive.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows casually on the table. "Oh, come on, buddy. I'm just kidding. Don't worry about those blaster-toting, New Rep. apes. They give you any more trouble, you can just remind 'em that General Antilles okayed this mission personally. If any of them have any problems, they can take 'em up with him."

"Humph, I wouldn't exactly call that my idea of fun," I replied bemusedly. Then I sighed to myself. "But I can't help thinking they have a point. I mean, we're going into this thing blind, with no idea how long it'll take and only a vague semblance of anything that could even remotely be called a plan. I mean, **I'm a Corellian** , and even I'm starting to worry about the odds."

He gave me an appraising look. "You know what, my friend? This is gonna sound really weird coming from me for once, but in the words of a very good friend of mine, 'Trust the Force', nerf herder!" The blunt remark snapped me out of my stress-induced, self-doubt with a wry grin.

I chuckled softly to myself then said, "Y'know, Zee? I truly don't believe I could've put that better. Thanks."

He spread his arms wide and said, "Technically, you did, for the most part anyway. I think I embellished it a tad. But hey, 's what I'm here for, buddy." We shared a brief, tender moment between us. "So," he said awkwardly, "we should probably get ourselves ready. Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"Whether I am or not, I don't really have a choice now, Zee. But yes, I'm feeling much better now, thank you. Still a little queasy from the poison, but I'll live." He nodded in friendly satisfaction and stretched again. As he got up to leave, I added, "Oh and, Zee? Remember to change into your dress robes."

"And, uh, why, exactly?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Psychological warfare, buddy. Intelligence tells us the Vong really hate us Jedi. And what emotion is closely linked to hate? Fear." He shot me a quizzical look. I sighed, exasperated. "It'll throw 'em off their game."

"Uh-huh. Kay, so why am I wearing them? I'll be on the ship, right?"

"Right," I conceded. "But what do you think happens when we finally come running?" I asked.

"Uh, I jump out and play 'distraction boy' until you guys mount up, so we can all get the kriff out of there," he answered, suddenly wearing that familiar, self-satisfied grin on his perpetually boyish face.

I nodded, offering a sly, half-smile of my own. "Bingo."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

 _Marv._

A pale light came from the lichen-clad walls. Deep shadows everywhere. A faint, dripping sound echoed thru the darkness. Cool, yorik-coral beneath my old, tired bones. It was hard to say how long we'd been trapped in here. A few days. A week, maybe. I didn't know. Time kinda loses meaning after seemingly endless hours of mind-numbing pain.

But that was all over now. The agony I felt before was now nothing but a bitter scar of memory resting in the back of a fatigue-soaked brain. I guess I should've felt glad about that fact, but to tell the truth, I couldn't feel much of anything right then. Except for the sinking suspicion that those Vong were only toying with us before. Odds were they'd be back soon to finish the job. And you can bet your sweet shebs I won't go quietly into the night when they do.

Okay, Marv ol' buddy, assess the situation. What are you up against? And what can you use to your advantage to make sure that whatever happens, you come out on top? Alright, let's see here. Wrists bound behind you with that nasty, green mucus-ey stuff from before. Uh-huh, ankles, too. You're lying helpless on the cold, coral floor, and as of yet, you're unarmed.

I heard a familiar, childlike whimpering to my left. "And you've got civvies to worry about," I muttered to myself, my old frustration instantly renewed. Jeez, Marv. Of all the tight spots you've ever gotten yourself into, you never once had to worry about kids in the mix. Dealers, thieves, and murderers, sure. But kids? What a kriffin' nightmare.

Just then, a gentle scuffling sound from behind roused me from my not-too-peppy thoughts. "Marv, ar-are you awake?" I heard Yuri whisper to me in a strained, desperate voice. I didn't respond. Poor kid'd gotten into enough trouble already 'cuz of stupid ol' me. But wait a second! If we don't find a way out of this mess, we're toast anyway. And at the moment, she's the only help I have. She asked again, almost pleading this time, "Marv?"

Flopping around like a clumsy cowfish, I turned to face her. She brightened noticeably the second our eyes met. "Yeah, kid," I answered warmly. Her eyes sparkled with unspoken gratitude in response. It was as if she knew with all certainty that I was gonna save her without me even having to say the words. I'd seen that look before, on hostages faces back on Corellia, staring up at us in awe just after me and the boys blew a big, gaping hole in the wall, toting blasters large enough to make even the toughest would-be kidnappers shake in their filthy lil' criminal booties.

But this time it was different. This time it was all my fault, and I had people counting on me, and me alone. No SWAT units to back me up. No snipers on the roof on stand-by. Not even a Med-team on hand to clear the debris and tend to the wounded. Nope, it was just little ol' me. The highly excitable, occasionally sloppy, one-man-army that always came thru in a pinch. CorSec Officer Dwight Hartigan, aka: MARV!

Besides, just look at her. Big, innocent hazel eyes. Long, silky brown hair. Smooth, lightly-tanned skin. Those small, pouty pink lips. Y'know, I hadn't noticed until just then how amazingly beautiful this girl really was. And what's more worth saving than the classic "damsel in distress," right?

She fixed me with a stare so intense it nearly broke my heart and asked, "Marv, what are we gonna do?! I can't take much more of this. I mean, sure, I've been thru tough times before. Hell, I practically had to raise myself since childhood, but I've never had to face anything like this. And they sure as Kessel never prepared us for anything this bad back at the academy. That said, I'm a realist. And honestly, I really don't see how we have even half a chance of living thru all this. So if we're gonna die here, I, for one, would really like a say in how and when that happens. I know you're with me on that one. Look, I didn't want to admit it earlier, but I…I'm so farking terrified I can't even begin to tell you. Come on, Marv. Tell me you have a plan. You do have a plan, don't you?"

Come on, Marv. She's counting on you. It's time to play the "hero" guy. I furrowed my brow in what I hoped came across as an expression of fierce determination and answered, "Alright, kiddo. Listen up. The way I figure, those guards'll be back any minute to play us our very own swansong of pain." She just looked at me, thoroughly confused. Humph. Kids.

"Anyway, we have to be ready, and preferably, untied." At that, her eyes lit up, and she started to squirm around, trying with difficulty to get something from out of her right boot. Somehow, even with both hands bound firmly behind her, the girl managed to arch her back and legs enough to reach. Wow, talk about flexibility. File that little nugget away for later, old man. She twisted her arms around in front of me, holding out a small, sharp object in her tiny hands.

"Will this help?" she asked with a sly smile, looking back at me over her shoulder. Now it was my turn to be puzzled. Turns out, the object was a makeshift knife, one fashioned from the same black yorik-coral that lined the floor and walls of this cozy, lil' prison chamber we'd been stuffed in this past week. Or was it weeks now? Nevermind. The point was, the kid must've found a pile of shards that had broken off the wall, picked the largest one, and rubbed it against the wall until sharp. Stang, that must've taken days. And to think, the whole time I figured she'd gone and found a good corner to cry in all this time. There must be more to this girl than I thought. I twisted around uncomfortably and took the knife from her graciously with both hands.

I started to open my mouth to ask her where she learned those nifty, survival skills, but Yuri stopped me with a shrug. "What?" she asked. I continued to gape at her in befuddled awe, and she added, "You didn't think I was just a spoiled, civvie brat who woke up one day and decided she wanted to fly, did you, Marv? You didn't, did you? Ugh, you did. I knew it. Gah!" she sighed loudly in frustration. Then she took a few moments to collect herself again and continued, "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Uh, right, uh, as I was saying, we'll have to be ready," I stammered. "Now, I really doubt they'll send up a couple of skinny, sickly guys to fetch us, so considering our limited resources, we'll have to take 'em by surprise. I just hope we can take them out before they can raise the alarm. If we can't, then well…let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Are you with me, kid?"

"Yep, but I have one question. Where do the kids figure into this little plan of yours?" she asked sweetly, and only slightly sarcastically.

"The kids?" I asked back, unsure how to reply. Where' she going with this, ol' boy?

"They're Jedi, Marv. They may not be full Knights yet, but they're far from helpless."

"But I just thought…wait, how did you know they're Jedi?"

Yuri just looked at me, deadpan. Okay, sorry, babe. Guess I'm an idiot sometimes. She shook her head and explained, "It just so happens I helped a Jedi out of a tight spot while he was on babysitting duty a couple years ago. The little one is Jesmin Tainer, and the boy's name is Valin." She had a smug grin on her face when she was done catching me up to speed.

I considered her words for a long moment. "Valin. Huh. Wait! Corran Horn's son, Valin?!" I asked, bewildered.

 _'The one and only, laserbrain.'_

That voice again. I looked over at him, and sure enough, he was staring straight at me. "Sorry, kid," I said, "Your dad's sort of a legend in CorSec."

"I know," he said flatly. He was still wearing that same expression of bored, annoyance.

"Okay," I said awkwardly, "we might actually have a chance now. Yuri, there's a vibrodagger in my boot. I keep it there in case of emergencies. And I'm pretty sure this counts as one. Grab it, and see if you can cut thru this durn, gooey stuff. Valin, can you break out of your restraints?"

He looked at me, then up at his slime-encrusted wrists, then back at me. "Uh," he said, pulling mockingly on them to no avail, "no." Then he hung his head and muttered under his breath, "What do you think I am, a wookie?"

"I meant, with the Force, kid," I said, fighting to control the irritation rising inside me.

"Corellian Jedi here, genius." Valin waited for recognition to show on my face. When it didn't, he continued sarcastically, "Duh, me no move-ey stuff with mind. Der."

Y'know, I'm really starting to dislike this kid. I took a few deep, calming breaths, then asked him again, "Can Jesmin do it?"

"She could," he replied tersely, "if she were conscious."

"Well, wake her up then," I said in exasperation.

"No."

"No?" I asked impatiently. "Why not?"

"Because," he said scornfully, "she's been bawling her eyes out for days on end and has only now found some small measure of peace. I'm not gonna take that away from her. Are you?" Yep. Liking him less and less.

"Look, kid—"

"Valin," Yuri said in a firm, gentle, and surprisingly motherly voice, "please. We don't have much time here. We have to work together or we'll never get out of here."

"What difference does it make? If we try to escape, they'll catch us and kill us. And if we stay here, they'll kill us, too!"

"Valin, listen to u—," Yuri began to say.

"No!" Valin cried vehemently, tears welling in his adolescent eyes. "Don't you see? We're done! Game over! We're all gonna die!"

"Patience, Valin!" I intoned sagely over his whining rant. "A clear head invites opportunities to present themselves."

Valin fell instantly silent. A few tense moments passed between us. Then he asked in a bitterly, accusing whisper, "Where did you hear that?"

Gotcha, kid. And thank you, Lowan. A casual grin spread slyly across my lips, and I told him, "An old friend of mine used to say that every now and again. What do you say, kid? You wanna help us get out of here?" I asked, pouring on a lil' ol' Corellian charm.

The boy considered my words for a moment, then nodded his head in a slow, solemn "yes." He held my eyes with his and said quietly, "Okay, but before you ask her anything, give me some time to calm her down." I threw him a quizzical look, and he said simply, "Trust me." Valin then bowed his head again, gently closing his eyes in concentration.

I waited anxiously, with nothing else to do except to start awkwardly sawing thru the thick, half-hardened, mucus-ey crap that bound my tired, aching wrists. It was slow-going at best considering the odd angle combined with my improvised cutting tool and all the more difficult since I was doing it blind. But it kept me occupied, which was always a good defense against hopelessness and mind-dulling panic. The faint, electric hum of the vibrodagger told me Yuri had to be doing the same.

I hadn't gotten very far when Jesmin suddenly awoke with a good, old-fashioned, blood-curdling scream. The piercing, high-pitched sound reverberated off the walls, leaving my ears ringing and sending a sharp chill up my spine. Emperor's black bones, that girl's got pipes! I turned to Valin urgently.

"Valin! Shut her up, will ya! Someone must've heard that!"

His eyes snapped open, blinking wildly for a few moments until he finally got his bearings. He turned his head toward the child and started speaking to her in a warm, soothing voice. "Jesmin, Jesmin! It's me, Valin! Listen to me! Shhhh! It's gonna be okay! Calm down!" A few panicked heartbeats later, and the young girl eventually quieted to a low, jerking whimper. Valin made sure she was okay before spearing me with his best, 'I told you so, stupid' glare. I pointedly ignored it and focused on capturing the blonde's attention, as her blue-eyed gaze was currently flitting nervously back and forth across the small room.

"Hey, pretty girl," I said, "I need you to do something for me. You hear me, kid?"

"What?" she squeaked in a small, frightened tone.

"I want you to use the Force to break you and Valin out of those icky, gooey bonds, okay?"

"B-but, I can't. I'm just a kid," she whined.

"Now, Jesmin, we don't have time for that," I said sternly. "You're a big girl now. You have to try."

The eight-year-old shook her head in frustration. "I told you, mister. I can't do it. I just wanna go home!" she wailed.

But Valin, who had since regained his stalwart, Jedi composure, would have no more of that. He fixed her with a serious expression, appearing to look straight thru down to the child's panicked soul. He was calm, but firm. "Hey, wasaka berry. Listen to me. Do you remember the story about 'The Brave Little Taun-Taun'?"

"Yeah," she sniffed, "you read that to me like three years ago, nerfwad. What about it?"

"Remember the part where all the Little Taun-Taun's friends get captured by the mean, Gamorrean slaver?" he asked encouragingly.

"Yeah."

"What does she do then?"

"She…she lets go of her fear, and she thinks of a way to save them,"

Jesmin answered as if by writ. Come on, kid. We don't have much time. I continued to saw at my mucus-ey bonds as I listened to the two expectantly.

"That's right, Jesmin," said Valin. "And now we're in the same situation, you see? I need you to be like 'The Brave Little Taun-Taun' and help us get out of here before some really bad things happen to us. Okay?"

"Like the Vong coming back to kill us?" Sniff, sniff.

"Yes, that would be a very bad thing. Now, we need you to concentrate and see if you can make those sticky shackles up there open for us. Alright?"

She nodded her little head, matted curls bouncing slightly. "Alright," she said with fragile confidence. Jesmin gently lowered her weary, red-rimmed lids. She then drew several deep, calming breaths. The young blonde became very still, quiet serenity spreading across her small, delicate features. And then…nothing. She opened her eyes again and sighed heavily. "I can't do it. I can't feel anything here in the Force." And if she can't 'feel' it, she can't affect it. Great. "Sorry, guys," she said, hanging her golden locks in defeat.

"It's okay, kid. It was worth a try, at least," I said, trying to console her and failing miserably. Not a second after the words tumbled out of my mouth, I heard a barely perceptible noise coming from the other side of the door. Footsteps. Coming closer. Sithspawn! "Quiet, people!" I whispered quickly thru the darkness. "We got company. Yuri, turn that thing off, will ya!" The humming blade fell silent. Nothing could be heard except for the ominous footfalls, getting louder and louder by the moment. I noticed Jesmin shivering in renewed terror. We waited.

The footsteps seemed to halt just outside the puckered door sphincter, and we all took a collective breath, and held it. Silence. Thick and oppressive. Then, what could only have been a few seconds later, but felt like an eternity, the footsteps moved on, gradually fading down the hallway. I blew out my breath in one huge sigh of relief. That, was close. **Too** close. I glanced around to check on the others. Valin was okay. Jesmin was dealing, considering. And Yuri, she was just staring back at me, a grave expression on her face. She wiggled up close to me.

"Uh, Marv? I…I, uh," she stammered, hazel eyes darting around, seemingly unable to look me straight in the eye, "I wanted to tell you something." Yuri hesitated, obviously conflicted. "I, I know we just met 'n all, and I'm usually not good at trusting other people, okay, men especially, but I mean…well, I…I'm, uh…I-I'm just glad I'm not alone in all this," she finished in a rush. She looked like she had more to say, but she abruptly turned away from me without another word. Before I could ask her about it, though, a second set of footsteps could be heard, faintly at first, but definitely getting louder and no doubt coming swiftly up the hallway headed straight towards our cell. Ah, hells. Here we go.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12.**

"Quiet now, guys. They're coming," I whispered insistently. Huh. That was weird. No smart remarks from the Jedi Boy Wonder. Guess he was scared enough to take me seriously for once. Ah, well. Suppose I'll take it where I can get it. I finished quickly, "Alright, listen up. The guards'll be here any second, so that means no time for elaborate strategy. Everybody play dumb, dead, and whimpering until I give the signal to act. Yuri, follow my lead."

An exultant "Yes!" escaped her pale, pink lips. Then she looked over at me, an extremely self-satisfied smirk on her face. Noticing the blank expressions the rest of us shared, her smugness quickly faded to embarrassment. "I, uh, finally cut thru the goop on my wrists. Heh. Sorry, what?" she asked meekly.

Teenagers. Humph. "Just, watch me for the signal. You'll figure it out," I said to her, my jaw firmly clenched. I looked back to Valin and Jesmin. "Kids, I'm not sure what to tell you here except to try and help out where you can, okay?"

Valin nodded his understanding. The blonde looked at him quizzically. She asked him in a small voice, "What's the signal gonna be?"

He stared me straight in the eye and said matter-of-factly, "When all hells start to break loose."

I shrugged and said nothing. Kid was probably right. But 'wild and crazy' has always kinda been my style, and it hasn't failed me yet. Well, not seriously, anyway. The footsteps were getting close again. We all waited silently with baited breath. Okay, Marv. Let's do this.

The door membrane slid slowly open. A large, muscle-bound Vong stepped thru it, followed by another one just as ugly. With a quick, squinting glance I noticed that these guys weren't wearing the spiky, black, vonduun crabshell armor that I figured was customary for all members of the Vong warrior-class. Nor did they carry those deadly amphistaffs coiled tightly around their massive right forearms. Instead, these guards were bare-chested, each wearing only a simple, loincloth-like garment and armed with a coufee, the Yuuzhan Vong-bred organism that resembled a large, jagged-bladed knife, which hung from a wide, scaly belt. Y'know, the chitinous quality of the blade vaguely reminded me of a Fondorian tigercrab.

Anyway, I couldn't really think of a reason why they would handle prisoners in this vulnerable, armor-less state, but if it made our escape attempt just that much easier, then hey, I wasn't complaining. The scar-faced skrags probably figured no one would be brave enough to try anything. Well, those boys were in for one hell of a surprise.

The first guard lumbered over to me, hoisting me up by the back of my collar. His clawed hand dug thru fabric and into flesh. The pain was excruciating, but I fought to ignore it and managed to stay silent. Any sign of resistance at this point would scrap the whole plan entirely. Stay limp, Marv! I screwed my eyes shut tight. Just a few more seconds. The Vong began to drag me across the floor, no doubt back toward the exit.

I heard a sharp yelp from Yuri, followed by a muffled whump. Guard number two must've picked her up by her hair and thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of jujatatoes. She started to whimper, pretty convincingly, too. Hey, old man, this just might work. Stay cool, now. Stay cool.

The monster dragged me along for another meter or so. Blood began to trickle down my back, mixing with the grime and dried sweat that already covered my raggedy shirt. It didn't matter, though. I had a well-deserved sonic shower and some fresh, new clothes waiting for me as soon as we got out of this mess. Well, "if", for now. Couldn't be too hasty. Didn't want to jinx it and give this whole crazy plan even less of a chance to work than it had already. I breathed deeply. Steady, Marv. Wait for it.

A few more moments passed. Then with a cry, I exploded out of the weakened jelly around my wrists and jammed the coral-knife up and back with all my strength. The Vong yowled in response as the dull blade ripped thru his flesh, sinking firmly into his left flank. A surge of adrenaline hit me as his grip loosened and I hit the ground, the breath rushing from my lungs with a sharp, grunted "oof!"

Slowly, I rolled over to face him, and to my extreme disappointment I realized that though he had stumbled to one knee for the moment, the scar-faced gundark was in all other respects still ready to rock. Great, Marv, you didn't wound him, you just fricked him off.

With a snarl he whirled around and backhanded me clear across the room. I hit the wall and went down hard. By the time my vision cleared again, I looked up to find both guards, weapons drawn and ready to pounce. Instead of rushing towards me, though, they leisurely sauntered over, a look of malicious anticipation showing in their cold, dark eyes. Their intent was obvious. The predators were gonna enjoy their prey a little before they finally got around to killing it. Well, ol' Marv may be caged, but he's far from helpless.

"Two against one, eh fellas? Yeah, well. I've had worse odds before." 'Course, then I had my guns on me, my legs weren't stuck together, and the bad guys weren't angry, pain-worshipping, steroid-freak aliens who wanted to enslave the whole galaxy. But still.

The two Vong crept ominously closer. Saliva dripped freely from their wide, grinning maws. Okay, getting a little nervous here. Jeez, what were those kids waiting for? Then it hit me like a brick in the head. Oh, yeah. The signal. Right. I turned my head. "Jesmin, now!"

The Vong were almost on top of me then. They raised their coufees high above their scarred, tattooed heads. Well, this is it, I guess. I did my best not to wince like a little girl in my last moments among the living. The Vong glared down at me, chuckling loudly to each other as they reveled in their shared sacrifice to the Vong gods.

Then suddenly, just as they both were about to strike me down, a proverbial wall of coral shards and other debris lifted from the floor and flew straight at them in the blink of an eye. The first managed to dodge the cloud somehow, but the second, well, he wasn't so lucky. It caught him square in the face, causing the ugly barve to stagger backward and throw his arms up in defense. I heaved a sigh of relief, breathlessly thanking my pint-size, Jedi rescuers. Sadly though, my moment of good fortune proved to be horribly short-lived.

The next thing I knew the first Vong let out a guttural yell and slammed into me, pinning me up against the wall with a toothy sneer. The chakaar then decided to lean his whole weight into it, practically squeezing the life out of me with each labored breath. I desperately threw a few right hooks to his ribs, but it was no use. He just flashed me a condescending grin, obviously enjoying his solid control over the situation.

I noticed Yuri behind him. The bravely-stupid girl was busy dealing with her own problems. She had jumped on the other guard's back while he was distracted by the debris cloud, and to her credit, hung on for a good few moments. But then he dipped forward and chucked her over his shoulder, dumping her hard to the ground. Yuri scrambled back in terror as he stalked toward her, coufee raised menacingly. He was just about to bring it down for the killing blow when, out of nowhere, this small hunk of coral flew across the room and embedded itself in his eye with a sickening CRUNCH! The Vong staggered back, howling in rage.

Seizing the opportunity once again, Yuri quickly leaned up to her knees and swept the vibrodagger up over her head, gruesomely slicing his throat and drenching herself under a shower of thick, black blood in the process. Alright, Yuri! That's what I'm talking about, girl! The Vong then slumped eerily to the floor.

It was far too early to celebrate, though. Scar-Boy still had me pinned, and hearing his comrade get deaded behind us by a weak, little human girl, he decided to get serious. Holding me easily against the wall by the throat with one hand, the Vong raised his coufee high in the other. I tried awkwardly to kick at him with my still-bound legs, but he just shrugged it off like the obvious threat it wasn't. The ugly shabuir pulled me in close, bare centimeters from his tattoo-covered, scar-riddled face as if he wanted to take my head off in one, huge bite.

And then suddenly, a look of instense worry showed in his dark eyes. He began to wheeze slightly. The wheezing developed into a cough. And when that cough became a violent hacking, his worry turned to absolute terror. His coughing quickly got so bad that his right hand loosened, the coufee falling from his grip. Without skipping a beat, I snatched the weapon out the air in my left and rammed it on home.

"Yeah! How's that, you dirty, son of a barve? How do ya like thirty centimeters of serrated crustacean shoved up your gut? Huh?" I said to him, eagerly drinking in the fear in his dying eyes. He sagged, and we both collapsed to the coral floor. His eyes rolled back in his head as his body went cold. Whew! Rolling off of the now dead guard, I laid on my back and sighed.

"Stang, I don't know what just happened there, but I can guess who's responsible." I glanced over at Valin, and sure enough, the boy had guilty written all over him. Did that kid just use the Dark Side? He shrugged an apology, shame bleeding off of him in waves. Wait, I forgot. He can reads minds.

"You did what you had to, kid," I told him, unsure of what else to say. He lowered his eyes and didn't respond. Awww, crap. What could I possibly say that'd make him feel better right now? "Look, you can sort it out later. We gotta get out of here first, okay?" Again, no response. "And I won't tell your dad or anything, either. You're getting old enough now to take responsibility for yourself. Valin?"

The boy nodded slightly, then looked up at me again. "Alright, let's go," he said. Good enough for me, kid. I used the coufee to saw thru the remaining stuff around my ankles. Then we cut the kids loose. After making sure everybody was sufficiently armed with something sharp and pointy, we warily stepped out into the hall.

And immediately, we were struck by an unforgiving blast of sulfurous steam. I almost choked, the air was so thick. Jeez, and I thought it was hot in that stinkin' cell we were just in. Oh, well. Guess we'll have to deal. We walked.

Hours passed. We continued to wander thru a veritable jungle maze of long, winding tunnels and unidentifiable, not to mention slightly carnivorous, plant-life. And still no sign of anything that even remotely resembled a docking bay. 'Course, we'd managed so far to avoid any search parties that the Vong likely sent after us once they discovered the dead guards in the otherwise empty prison cell we had left behind. And granted, once we figured out how to operate those tall, slimy, tube-looking creatures that apparently pass for lifts on this Force-forsaken hunk of rock, we made a lot more progress.

Though I have to say, I was getting extremely tired of being spewed out of the ceiling and freefalling the ten or fifteen odd meters to the spongy, mossy ground below every time we wanted to go down a kriffin' level! And don't even get me started on how disgusting it is to be covered in that funky, slimy residue afterwards. I've known Gamorreans who've smelled better! And why in Kessel, did we have to stumble around for another twenty minutes or so in order to find the next stanged passage tube? Wouldn't a turbolift make a lot more kriffin' sense? Gah!

I was so fed up with this place I could just scream, which made me all the more surprised at what happened next. We came around the next corner, and **WHAM!** There they were. Waiting for us. Six of 'em, all lean muscle and quiet intensity, poised to attack at any moment. Each warrior armed to the teeth with thud bugs, razor bugs, and their deadly, hissing amphistaffs.

Y'know, Marv ol' buddy, I really hoped we'd make it out of this one, but honestly, I never thought we had a chance. That's right, pal. You're gonna die, here and now, and so are Yuri, Valin, and Jesmin if you don't do something. But if you take a stand now, you just might give them enough time to make a run for it. You owe them that much, old man.

So I held them back, telling Yuri to grab the kids and run. She wasn't happy about it obviously, but this weren't no democracy. I wasn't asking her; I was telling her. And she knew by now that I wasn't in any mood to mess around. So with a quick kiss for luck, and a whispered goodbye, she handed me her coufee. I thought she was gonna go, but Yuri lingered, that familiar conflicted look in her eyes again. She opened her mouth to speak, but ultimately, couldn't bring herself to say how she felt. I was touched, actually.

I gave her a tight grin. "Who knows, kid? It might've worked between us given the chance." She threw me a sad smile, bittersweet tears welling in her big, doe eyes. "You'd better go," I managed past the lump starting to rise in my own throat. Not wanting to watch her go, I took a deep breath and turned back to the Vong. Time to draw my proverbial line in the sand. Come on, boys. Let's see what you got.

All at once they launched their attack, quickly surrounding me in a small circle of death. I did my best to hold them off, dodging, stabbing, turning, slashing, weaving my blades into a continuous, whirling dance of pain. But I knew it couldn't last. It didn't have to. As long as I gave my crew a little more time to run, then I had done my part.

I'd taken out two of the ugly chakaare when suddenly a thud bug hit me square in the chest, easily knocking me from my feet and sending me hard to the spongy, slimy ground. I tried to stand, but a vicious backhand sent me sprawling, my weapons flying from my grasp and clattering across the floor. Resolutely, I turned and looked up. Much to my surprise, the Vong had stepped back, apparently to make room for the largest one who had to be their leader. He stood no more than a meter from me, gruesome and towering, a stark contrast from my kneeling, recently disarmed, and decidedly-farkled self.

He stared down at me, an evil grin smeared across frayed, purple lips. The lead Vong hesitated, obviously enjoying the hint of fear in my eyes. It was as if he was mocking me and my pathetic, warrior abilities. You filthy gundark! Just do it already, stang it!

And just as the hulking monster reared back for the killing blow, a brilliant

shaft of incandescent blue spewed forth from the center of his chest like a vibroblade thru bantha butter. A moment later, the energy blade retreated, leaving a smoldering, half-cauterized hole in its wake. The Vong looked down at his wound, then back at me in utter shock. He sagged to the floor with a grunt, revealing a sight so unbelievable I was sure I must be dreaming.

There, standing amongst four ridiculously well-armed New Republic Spec Ops troopers, was Lowan Colaf, lightsaber held calmly at his side. He looked a little haggard, but otherwise okay, clad in his dark green Jedi robes. The Jedi gave me a weary smile and said, "Hey, CorSec. How ya been?" He waved a hand, and the troops used their blaster rifles to easily mow down the remaining Vong warriors. Huh, BlasTech T-21 Light Repeaters. Nice.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yuri and the kids had rejoined us amongst the newly-deaded Vong warriors. "What the-Yuri!" I yelled at her in frustration. "Didn't I tell you to get the kriff outta he—"

But she cut me off, saying, "Yeah, you did. And we even got about a half a klick down the corridor, too. But then Valin here felt the presence of your buddy Lowan in the Force, and we all agreed we'd be a whole lot safer if we ran back this way." She batted her eyes at me in mock-sweetness.

Lowan nodded at the kid standing next to her. "Good thinking, Valin. Your father'd be very proud of you."

The normally cocky, lil' brat just shrugged humbly at that and looked up at him in solemn admiration. "Thanks, Lowan. That means a lot coming from you."

Me? I was practically shaking in complete and total aggravation by that point. I mean, for fark's sake! Do we really have time for all this touchy, feely, family crap? We're on a kriffin' Vong worldship here! Anybody else remember that?! Sheesh.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.**

 _Lowan._

He just stared at me as I closed down my lightsaber and returned it to my belt. Awash with what I guessed was a mixture of gratitude and semi-genuine contempt, he stood there. And kept standing there until, with a sigh, he spoke.

"Well, it took you long enough."

"Had to stop for gas on the way," I replied. Another tense moment. Then a lopsided-grin spread across his stubbly face, and he chuckled to himself. I laughed as well, the stress of the last few days rolling off of us in waves until the sound of it echoed off the walls of the passage in which we stood. Immediately, we fell silent. Can't enjoy our reunion so much that we alert every Vong in the vicinity to our presence, now can we? But it was good nonetheless. War can start to get to you after awhile. Faster if you bottle it up over and over until one day you can't take it anymore and you crack. A good laugh every now and then helps to ease the pain. But you can't laugh forever, not when there's still work to be done. And especially not while there are still innocent lives at stake.

I took my hands off my hips and let them drop. "Right. Time to go, people. Fall in. Oh, and Marv? Grab a rifle; I saw you drooling." I nodded to Bertrand, and the big man sauntered forward, a mischievous grin duraplasted into his battle-hardened face. Unslinging an extra from his own personal arsenal, he handed it over. Marv took it, regarding the gun like a newborn baby, with a mix of apprehension and unbridled elation.

But he looked up after a second, clearly confused. "But where's the external power supply?" he asked. T-21's used up so much energy with each shot they usually were carried with a heavy, backpack-style, continuous-feed power generator. Not ideal, but worth the extra weight to the infantrymen who required more stopping-power and ammo than the average soldier. These blaster rifles were an upgrade on the original design and hence functioned the same, but no longer needed the backpack generator to do so.

Bertrand beamed at him, holding his own weapon out with pride. "New Rep Special Issue," the big man said. "Built-in generator and Tibanna synthesizer. Bigger kick, smaller source, and a hell of a lot more fun."

Upon hearing this, my fellow Corellian looked as if he was about to burst into tears of joy. Instead, he took a breath and feigned nonchalance, saying, "Alright. Works for me."

A bark of laughter erupted from the big man, and we headed out. Johnson, Sheckil, and Riley fanned out ahead. Bertrand dropped back to cover our tail. As we walked, I looked over my shoulder and checked on Yuri and the children. Just shaken up a bit. They'll be okay.

I looked to Marv and continued, "Y'know, to be honest, the guys and I didn't think we'd find you in time. No offense, buddy."

"None taken."

"Yeah, well anyway, we received your transmission just in time. Admiral Ackbar wanted to thank you for the heads up. Thought I'd return the favor personally."  
"'S all good. Thanks for the ride."

"Don't mention it, Marv."

We walked together in exhausted silence, words unable to lift the veil of pain and hopelessness that was doubtless threatening to smother my companions' resolve with every weary step. I kept walking, head up high, stalwartly trying to warm their aching hearts with the fire of supposed confidence. Just a little longer, people. I promise.

I fell into step beside my weary friend. "By the way," I said cheerfully, "your buddy, Janson, said he's putting you up for promotion. Lieutenant, I think, in New Republic Intelligence. Crazy, huh?"

"Imagine that," Marv said quietly.

"Yeah," I said, "and that doesn't happen every day, either. Last time I heard tell of an unenlisted man getting promoted so high, so fast, the guy had saved a princess and helped destroy a Death Star. Congrats, buddy. You earn—"

"Save it, Lowan," he said, coming to a halt abruptly and turning to face me. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but...look, kid. We're not off this rock yet, okay?" The blunt realism of his statement hung in the air between us for several uncomfortable seconds. Marv faced forward after that and kept on walking.

"Alright, I got it. Sorry," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

And though grudgingly at first, I made no further attempts to bolster party morale. I merely focused my thoughts inward, quietly strengthening my own defenses. For though I may not have been able to help my friends at that moment, I could still stay vigilant, for them and myself. And so I would. I was a Jedi. The Force was with me now as it always would be. We walked.

A few more fun-filled rides down the 'mucus chute', as we sorely came to refer to it, and I felt it, that familiar tingle in the back of my mind. No, it couldn't be. Here, of all places? But the feeling grew more urgent, more insistent, until there was no denying its existence. It blossomed in my head, rapidly filling my consciousness before suddenly it exploded down my spine like a white dwarf gone nova. The pain took me to my knees, and I clutched my now-throbbing head in both hands. Yes, she was here. My apprentice. And her time was almost up.

"Stop," I gasped, "we have to go back."

Marv and the commandos whipped around to face me. Marv rushed to my side. "Lowan, what is it?" he asked, the weariness and irritation having instantly vanished from his voice, and in its place the calm, level-headed manner of a seasoned CorSec officer.

"She… she's here, Marv. We have to go back for her," I stammered, Yumi's pain still raging in my skull thru the Force.

"She? She who? What are you talking about, kid?"

"Ma, m-my, apprentice. She's…" I frantically groped for the right words to express the sense of urgency that was rapidly threatening to overwhelm my whole being. After a few seconds, the best I could manage was, "We don't have much time!"

"Your apprentice?! Lowan, you're talking crazy now. What are you saying?"

Fierfek, he thinks you're crazy! You've got to make him understand. "No time to explain…we, we've gotta save her. Must, go now!" Well then, that could've come out better, huh? You raving lunabird! Why don't you throw in a little 'uh, uh, sandpanthers are gonna fall from the sky and steal our credsticks' for good measure? Idiot.

Marv looked at me quizzically. "Are you sure you're okay, buddy?"

"Eh, kid's been kinda sick lately. Must be gettin' delusional," shrugged Johnson.

"Yeah," agreed Sheckil, "let's move out."

Marv seemed to consider this. He looked at the troopers, then back at me, then back to them again. Then with a long sigh, he stood and began to trudge back toward the commandos, his rifle resting lazily over his shoulder. No. No, he can't believe…they don't understa—

"Wait! I believe him."

Marv turned back around at Yuri's unexpected outburst, blatant confusion showing on his face. She smiled meekly, anxiously wringing her hands as he continued to gawk at her in befuddled suspicion. Then Yuri went to him and put a hand on his arm. She stared up at him, her expression grave. "Look, Lowan may be a little tired, Marv, but I've never known him to be crazy. I think you should listen to him."

His brow furrowed a little deeper. "One of those Jedi-intuition things?" he asked. She nodded. "Huh, alright then." He cast an appraising glance at the entire group, then deliberately cleared his throat. "Alright, then," he said again, this time in a much more commanding tone. "This is how it's gonna work. Yuri and I will go with Lowan. Johnson, you and the rest of the troops'll take the kids and see them safely back to the ship—"

"'Bout time we got the krink outta here," snorted Bertrand.

Marv ignored him and continued, "Lay low people, and do your best to avoid any and all confrontations with the Vong—"

"No, really? I figured we'd give each of the freaks a big smooch on our way out."

"Stang it, Bertrand! Shut your hole and listen to me!" Marv barked, deadly serious. Amazingly enough, the older, bigger man obeyed and proceeded to

nonchalantly 'check his blaster charge'.

"Now, wait for us at the ship. If we don't meet you there in ten hours, well…No, vape that! We'll make it back, and then we'll all get off this Force-forsaken, pile of…" he glanced at Jesmin and Valin, then back to Johnson. "Worm-ridden filth," he finished awkwardly.

Johnson just stood there for a few moments, obviously weighing the situation. Then he nodded and said, "Okay, Marv. But take Riley here with ya. The boy's still a bit green, but he's a good shot, and he won't crumble under the pressure."

The younger soldier stepped forward and saluted. Marv returned it crisply and blew out another sigh. "Thanks, Johnson," he said, "I'm betting we'll need all the help we can get."

"No problem, Marv." He threw a glance in my general direction and shook his head in doubtful condescension. Then he looked back to Marv and added, "Good luck to ya, soldier."

Marv noticed the trooper's wary glance and, to his credit, offered up a reassuring smile. He replied simply, "May the Force be with you." I sent him a giant _"Thanks!"_ thru the Force and started to struggle to my feet. Good ol' Marv. I always knew you had my back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14.**

 _Marv._

'I've never known him to be crazy.' Hah! Well, what do you call clawing, tooth and nail, out of the belly of the Vong beast, just to go swan-diving back in because you **think** you felt the presence of your long, lost apprentice? A real, fun time?! Okay, okay. Calm down there, Marv. Calm down. You're just getting jittery. Sheesh. Figures, y'know? After almost a week or so of no sleep, food, or even a good, old-fashioned sonic shower, no one'd exactly be 'little Miss Rosey Sunshine.' You're just tired is all. Could be worse, though. You could be seeing things.

"Wait, do you guys hear that?" asked Yuri. Or hearing things.

"Yuri, what are you talk—" But then I heard it too. The all too familiar sound of whimpered cries and muffled screams. The Interrogation deck. "It look's like we're home, sweetheart," I said. "Think they missed us?"

She just glared at me, hands on saucy, little hips. "Doubt it," she said, clearly unamused. She added under her breath, "Jerkwad."

Alright, she's still together enough to get annoyed. Good thing, too. We'll need her if things get hairy. And knowing my luck, they would, thicker than matted, Wookie fur after an hour in a Kaminoan rainstorm.

Beside me, Lowan winced, clutching his temples with his left hand. "There," he said, panting slightly and pointing with the dormant hilt of his lightsaber to a spot in the left wall, a few meters down the corridor. "She's in there…up on the left."

No sooner did he speak the words, when the door membrane slid open, and two burly, Vong warriors lumbered out into the hallway. And being roughly dragged between them was a young, dark-haired human girl. It was hard to make out her features in the dim light of the corridor, but under the layers of grime and sweat and the filthy, tattered clothes she wore, the girl actually bore a striking resemblance to Yuri. That's weird. She never mentioned having a sister.

My suspicions were confirmed in the next moment as I heard my companions cry out in unison, "Yumi!" The girl lifted her head weakly, slowly turning it in the direction of the sound and belatedly recognizing it as her own name. Then her eyes snapped wide open, awareness flooding back to her in an instant. But before she could respond, one of the Vong clapped a clawed hand over her mouth. Both flashing sadistic grins, they yanked her into another 'room' on the opposite wall.

The door irised shut, and the next thing I heard was a muffled scream followed by a dull THUMPon the coral floor. The two warriors came back out into the hall a few seconds later, amphistaffs already uncoiled and at the ready. The hair rising on the back of my neck told me there were more of them stalking up from behind to box us in. Well boys, can't say I'm surprised. But if it's blood you want, then it's blood you're gonna get.

Flipping my rifle up under my arm, I slagged them both under a healthy barrage of point-blank laserfire. All that was left of them after I laid off the trigger were a few unrecognizable chunks of flesh and some black blood splashed up and down the walls. Emperor's Black Bones, I love this gun!

I whipped around, eagerly scanning for the next thing dumb enough to get in my sights. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Yuri, kneeling behind a bulkhead-like protrusion in the wall, a heavy blaster grasped firmly between tiny, delicate hands. Spitting short, controlled bursts of fiery, red death at the oncoming aliens, I got the feeling this clearly wasn't her first time either. Hmmm, girl must've seen a few firefights before going off to pilot school. Good for her.

Lowan's was another story entirely. The kid was currently engaged with six of the barves, and surprisingly, doing great. It was like he was everywhere and nowhere, all at once. Turning, slashing, ducking, thrusting, blocking, all the while staying mere centimeters away from the Vong and their deadly, hissing amphistaffs. Stang, buddy! And I thought I was good in close. Lowan had been holding off the Vong, attacking him from all sides, for at least thirty seconds, maybe closer to a minute now. Still, he hadn't broken a sweat; not a hair was out of place on that ponytailed, poster-boy head of his. He whipped his lightsaber around effortlessly, like a pale blue blur amidst a sea of whirling, dark green robes. And my buddy has just barely entered his twenties. Sheesh. I mean, I don't claim to know much about the Jedi. But hey, with moves like that, I'd have made the kid a master, too.

Lowan pivoted on his left foot and delivered a quick kick to the ribs of one of the warriors that connected with bone-shattering force. The Vong crumpled and went down. An elbow strike to the jaw, and there went another one. I was about to leap back into the fray when suddenly, I heard Lowan's voice in the back of my mind. _'Save her,'_ he said. Another wave of attackers came swiftly up the hall, and I hesitated. I couldn't leave him now. He didn't have a chance in Kessel of holding off the Vong Warrior horde single-handedly. Jedi Master or no, I didn't see it ending well for Lowan. _'Marv, please!'_ I looked back to my friend to discover all six Vong now lying dead at his feet. He looked at me, eyes grim.

"On second thought, I think you've got this for now," I said sheepishly. "Have at, my friend." He raised his blade to me in salute. I nodded in return.

Turning back, I rushed to the door, blasting the membrane open and diving over the threshold to the dim room within. Rolling to a knee, I quickly scanned the area. There, in the corner, the lifeless body of a young, dark-haired girl. Guess I was too late to save her. No, wait! Movement to my left. There she was, writhing on the floor, a long, slimy, snake-like creature covered in coarse, red fur wrapped tightly around the young Jedi's throat.

I heard Yuri gasp as she entered the room behind me. "Oh, gods," she murmured to herself, clearly in shock. Grabbing my arm and shaking it, she shrieked at me in desperation. "Marv, Marv, do something! Quick!" Her frantic terror threatened to overwhelm me too as her fingernails started digging into my shoulder. But I cast it aside like I had so many times before. Now was definitely **not** the time to panic.

Letting my rifle swing down behind me, I scrambled over to the struggling girl. "Okay, okay, okay! Just give me a second here." This was not good. Not good at all. I had a suffocating Jedi here, no knife to cut her free, and her hysterical twin sister bawling in the background. Come on, now. What's the right play, here? Think, Marv. Think!

"What are you waiting for, Marv?" she wailed. "She's gonna die!"

"I'm working on it, honey! Just shut up for a second, will ya?" I replied, maybe a little too harshly. I mean, I knew she wasn't running on all cylinders at the moment, but that didn't make it any easier for me to concentrate, now did it? Come on, come on, come on. Wait a second! "Yuri, you still got that vibrodagger I gave you earlier?"

"Uh, what? I don't know! No, wait! Here it is!" she said frantically.

"Great! Give it to me!" I grabbed it from her. Bracing myself, I straddled her choking sister. Awww, man! Talk about fighting a losing battle. Eyes all rolled up in her head and starting to turn blue. Kid was a goner for sure.

"Marv!" Yuri squealed in my ear. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay! Calm down." Flicking the weapon on, I took a deep breath and held it. This wasn't no lightscalpel, and I sure as Sith wasn't no surgeon. I blew it out. "Alright, hold her down. If I slip, well…" I started to say, the unfinished thought hanging in the air between us. My eyes flicked to Yuri. Tears streaming freely down her face, the girl looked pale as death. "Just, keep her still, okay?" She nodded, prying her twin's hands off her neck with some difficulty and holding them to the ground above her head.

Okay, here it is. Moment of truth. Man, I hope this works. Absently, I adjusted my lucky beanie. Then slowly, ever so slowly, I leaned down to her, my left hand resting firmly on the dying girl's shoulder. Carefully bringing the humming blade across her chest, my right hand trembled anxiously. I took another deep breath, my hand now hovering just centimeters above the oily creature wrapped tightly around her neck. Then I moved in for the cut.

And suddenly found myself violently bucked forward, the vibrodagger narrowly missing the girl's right eye. I looked up in frustration. "Hold her still, Yuri! I'm not kidding!" Then I turned back to her twin below me.

"Easy, easy," I whispered to her, sliding gently back into position, only to be bucked forward yet again. "It's okay," I said quickly. "No one's gonna hurt—" But then I noticed her eyes had closed, her jaw gone slack. What in Kessel was she playing at? Oh, Sithspit! She wasn't trying to fight me. **Those** were **death throes**.

I jumped to one knee next to the girl, raised the dagger high behind me, and swept it down for one wild, last-ditch strike. The creature squealed in pain as the blade pierced its scaly, snake-like hide. I hit it again, and the thing quickly unraveled itself, slithering noisily toward the far corner of the dimly-lit chamber.

"Shoot it! Stang it!" I yelled. "Shoot that kriffin' thing!" Yuri fumbled for her blaster, firing three shots in quick succession into the darkness. Then an ominous silence descended on us.

I turned back to her sister, only to find her limp body lying crumpled on the hard, coral floor. Stang. After all that effort to save the poor girl, 'turns out we were still too late to make a bit of difference. I shook my head and started to stand.

"Hey," Yuri said so urgently it actually surprised me. "Where do you think you're going? Save her, you good-for-nothing nerfherder!"

I took a deep breath, set my jaw, and looked her straight in the eye. "I did what I could, alright? She didn't make it. I'm sorry, there's noth—

"Un-uh, try again," she fired back with the kind of tireless conviction only a sibling could muster. "That's my sister, understand? She's all I have, and she's all I care about! So she. Can't. Die!"

Yuri just stared at me then, more serious than I'd ever seen her before.

I considered her words, time slowing down as I weighed the situation just like I had countless times back in CorSec. I glanced back at her twin. Y'know old man, if this girl on the floor were anybody else, you'd just chalk it up to a lost cause and move on to somebody you actually could save. But she wasn't just any girl. She was Lowan's apprentice, and more than that, she was also Yuri's twin sister. And I had a good feeling if she died right here and now, both of them'd be broken inside for a long time to come. Besides, her sister had pitched in to save us enough times already since this whole crazy thing started. And frankly, I haven't thanked her once yet. I hated to admit it, but I kinda owed it to her on this one.

I looked back to Yuri, obviously on the verge of tears, but trying to stay strong nonetheless. Alright, babe. I'll give it my best shot. And I won't give up until Lowan comes in that door and tells us our time's up, and it's now or never.

Suddenly, the urgency of the moment came crashing back in with a vengeance. I rushed over to her twin sister, my CorSec Emergency Training kicking in instantly. Come on, kid! You can't die on me now! There's just too much at stake for everybody!

I pumped her chest furiously with my hands, pausing every thirty pumps to blow two hard, sharp breaths into her cold, lifeless mouth. Seconds passed as I worked on her. She didn't respond. Those seconds stretched into minutes. Still nothing. Breathe, for the Force's sake! Come on! I tried everything I knew to do, and nothing worked. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I noticed Yuri looking on intensely, offering silent support while at the same time, giving me the room I needed to do the job.

Even so, I was just about to hang it up and go home. When out of nowhere, she was back! I jumped off of her, and she flopped clumsily onto her side, hacking violently. After another half-minute or so, the coughing finally subsided. Then it stopped altogether and she began breathing regular, albeit shallow breaths. The girl rolled lazily to her back again, her glassy-eyed gaze turning up to meet mine.

"Tha-" Yumi swallowed a few times and tried again. "Thank you," she croaked, untold gratitude showing in her half-lidded eyes. Hazel, just like her sister's. Huh. Words escaped me then, so I just gave her a small nod and awkwardly shrugged off her gratitude. Her eyes stayed locked with mine for a few more seconds. Then her lips curled up into a wry smile as she threw a look at Yuri. "Hey sis," she said, "who's your new boyfriend? He's kinda cute." Looking back at me, she added with a wink, "Not a bad kisser, either."

Despite the hard-edged persona I've worked long and hard to build up over the years, I felt myself blush at that. Ah, jeez.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Lowan._

Yumi. Truthfully, I never thought I'd see her again after that nightmarish chain of events at the Battle of Kalarba. Yet here she was, alive and well, thanks to the no-nonsense, last-minute efficiency of an old and dear friend. So emotional was the reunion that I even noticed Marv start to tear up a little. I decided not to call any attention to that. No need to embarrass the 'hardcore' cop any further.

After a few long moments, though, reality came crashing back in with a vengeance. We can't afford to celebrate just yet. We still have to get out of this horrific, living prison and back to the troopers' ship. Setting our faces into fragile masks of resolute strength, we checked our weapons-charge and set out once again. Making our way back to the distant docking chamber, we walked in silence. We had to. The Vong were all around us, no doubt forming organized search parties to hunt us down. And we all knew the unspoken, but inevitable and sickening truth. If they did find us, capture would be the last thing on their violent minds. So we walked, and for our stealthy efforts, even managed to avoid the notice of a few Vong patrols. We were doing surprisingly well, I had to admit. So well in fact, that I was cautiously beginning to hope we **really could** make it out of this harrowing experience without any more bloodshed or needless death befalling us.

I was wrong. Turning the corner only four levels up from where Marv saved my apprentice, that's where we found them. They had been waiting for us, the Yuuzhan Vong warrior elite. More gruesome than anything we had come across so far, their eager, malicious grins instantly crushed our already fragile morale. The vicious beasts were armed with two half-meter-long bone claws implanted on the outside of each wrist. The claws themselves appeared to be razor-sharp and dripping a slimy substance that could've been mere mucus, but was more likely some kind of deadly, Vong poison.

And towering above them from behind was their leader. I couldn't believe my eyes. The same fearsome Vong commander from my vision, complete with chin-spike and a long, officer's cape hanging from sharp hooks embedded in his broad, muscular shoulders. Now standing just meters away from us, he was even more terrifying than I remembered. The leader stalked slowly toward us, his minions parting obediently as he passed then quickly closing ranks behind him again. His dark eyes glared at us, reveling in the obvious fear he inspired within us. My heart sank. Any remaining hope of survival to which I had been clinging now vanished, replaced in an instant by the inescapable feeling of utter defeat. It was over for us. If we weren't dead already, we surely were now.

The claw-troops got Riley right off the bat, stabbing the poor kid thru the throat before he could even bring his rifle to bear. We tried falling back down the hallway, but they surrounded us in seconds. Two full squads worth of snarling, ferocious Vong warriors in an ever-tightening circe, eagerly awaiting the order to pounce. And to make matters worse, that new Super-rifle of Marv's had just conveniently decided to jam.

The disheveled detective settled in beside me and nodded wearily at the Vong leader. "That's Dakk Shai," he said. "He's the one in charge around here. Real, nasty fella. You don't want to mess with him, buddy." Hold on, is Marv **actually** admitting for once to be afraid of somebody? Well, I for one never thought I'd see the day when his trademark bravado finally crumbled. I guess things had changed, and I had a sinking feeling they weren't about to get better anytime soon.

Marv's admission got me thinking about another equally unexpected turn of events, my promotion to the rank of Master. Shortly following the ceremony, I overheard some of the other Masters speaking together in hushed, but obviously disdainful tones. "The youngest Master ever", they had said incredulously. Barely older than Anakin Skywalker had been when he had sat on the High Council almost fifty years ago. We all remember how badly that decision had turned out, don't we? And now I, another child, have been carelessly elevated to their same venerable position of wisdom and trusted authority. I know as much as they that I have not yet earned such a title.

Just imagine. Me? A Jedi Master? What a joke. My training in the Force has but barely begun. I'm a nobody. Not a Skywalker, with the raw Force-potential that only surfaced once or twice every other millennia. Nor a Horn, whose natural intuition was only heightened thru his mastery of the Force. Not even a Durron, whose fall to the dark only served to further his brazen defense of the light. As for me, well, it would seem that Master Skywalker has finally drunk one too many cups of hot chocolate. I'm not saying he's crazy, but to think that I am worthy of such a distinction is just, I don't know.

During the promotion ceremony the other Masters had held their tongues out of respect to Master Skywalker, but I knew what they were all thinking. Their collective disapproval was suffocating. _"He's not ready,"_ they said through the Force. Lately, I've been beginning to wonder if maybe they were right.

Still, maybe Master Skywalker saw something in me that no one else had and was even now, waiting patiently for me to find it within myself. Maybe this, this singular moment, was my chance to heed the will of the Force and fulfill my destiny. I had to believe that. I must. The fate of my friends now hung precariously in the balance.

Marv looked to me uncertainly, an uncharacteristic panic creeping in behind those intense, dark eyes. I straightened up, my expression fading to one of stoic, Jedi resolve. "I'll handle this," I said with all certainty.

"Ya sure there, buddy?" he asked. "Biggie looks pished."

I calmly turned to face the Vong Commander. "Run," I said with finality. Marv hesitated, and for a moment I thought he was going to fight me on this. But surprisingly, my friend grudgingly accepted the situation for what it was, firmly and utterly out of his control. He muttered a curse under his breath and took off down the hall, the twins in tow.

The claw-gang closed in around me, ready to pounce at any moment. But my gaze never strayed from their leader. My eyes locked squarely onto his, I shrugged out of my outer robe and let it fall to the ground behind me. The heavy, synthwool garment hampered my reflexes and overall maneuverability only slightly. But against such a formidable opponent as the one now standing before me, I couldn't afford to sacrifice even the slightest, tactical edge. I steadied my nerves with a slow, deep breath. Then I swept my lightsaber crisply down, around, and down again. It was an ancient gesture, my own personal homage to the great, Jedi duelists of old. Shai grinned evilly, casually uncoiling the amphistaff from his massive forearm and setting himself for battle with a nonchalance that belied both a fanatical superiority and an undying hatred for 'infidels' such as me.

The monster rumbled an order to the claw-troop at his side in their harsh, guttural native tongue, and the smaller alien nodded, crossing his fists against his chest in silent response. He looked back at his fellow warriors hungrily, and like an A-wing ramming up to full throttle, the Vong were off, sprinting down the hall, chasing after my fleeing companions like predators in the night, hot on the scent of their prey. That left just the two of us. Dakk Shai and myself. The air went electric, the tension mounting. And the silence, that bone-chilling silence, like the eerie calm before the storm.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

Slowly we circled one another, like vornskrs on the prowl, waiting for the right moment to strike. Easy, Lowan. Remember, you don't have to win. As long as you give the others enough time to escape, that'll be enough. I took another deep, focusing breath and tried to shake off the nauseous reminder of the poison. Yes, the still unknown airborne toxin had coursed through my veins endlessly. Ravaging my body and compromising my mental stability, it took all I had to finally find the strength to overcome it. Even now, days after beating it back, I was still weak from its effects. Don't think about it, Lowan. Just focus and hold on as long as the Force will allow.

That malicious grin was my only warning as the Vong suddenly launched his attack. Blow after vicious blow crashed against my defenses, the ferocity behind each strike rattling my saber in my hands. Dakk Shai was extremely strong and obviously well-versed in the ways of war. If I didn't lead him out of this cramped hallway and into a more open area, I wouldn't last long at all against him. I had to make a move, and fast. Rolling under yet another devastating, horizontal slash of his amphistaff, I dashed for the open door membrane directly across the hall. But the Vong commander was right on my heels as I quickly retreated further into the next room. I risked a quick glance around me and noticed I was in what appeared to be a vast, high-walled throne room-like chamber.

Double-tapping a button on the hilt of my lightsaber, the weapon shifted to its hidden, dual-phase. The hilt shrank down to a more one-handed style grip, and a small, custom-deflector shield shimmered swiftly into existence, surrounding my right hand nearly completely. It was based off a design I discovered one muggy, Yavin night as I was tirelessly studying the Praxeum's Jedi Holocron. This saber was my tribute to the skilled, Makashi duelists of the Old Republic. Honorable men and women, they had deftly kept the Sith at bay for thousands of years, long before I was born.

Of course, most of my fellow students at the Academy never really understood my decision to honor the old Makashi tradition with my unique saber design. But even so, mocking me as they had on occasion, they could not deny its effectiveness in the intense, one-on-one contest of lightsaber combat. I'd proved myself against the naysayers time and time again, rarely faltering and never doubting myself nor the blademasters I so strove to emulate.

I chose this design for my personal saber, not only because it was a long-tested and well-proven option. More importantly, it allowed me greater mobility as well as a tighter, more-complete defense against those tougher, single opponents. And right now, that was exactly what I needed. Dakk Shai was relentless. Every successive strike threatened to hammer me into dull, bloody submission. But I wasn't about to make it easy for him.

His amphistaff went slack and whipped around in an attempt to entangle my blade, but I saw it coming a split-second before it could. Deflecting the nearly unpredictable weapon to my left, I stepped in and delivered a hard slash across his armored gut. Normally, a blow like that would have cleaved a lesser foe in two. But in this instance, all it did was knock him back a bit and leave a wide scar across his vonduun crabshell-encased torso. Shai roared in outrage, and I threw him a teasing wink. That's right, pal. I **am** that good.

He came back with an elbow aimed for my head. I dodged just out of range and, seeing as he had overextended himself, riposted with a thrust straight to his black heart, scorching a hand-size burn there. Unfortunately, my blow, however precise, failed once more to penetrate the thick, crabshell carapace. The Vong growled in frustration and then he came at me again.

From every angle imaginable, he came, snarling and grunting all the while. Thanks to the Force, I managed to dodge, block, or parry them all somehow. It was a deadly game we played; Shai, laying down a near-constant barrage of rage-driven attacks, and me, continually doing my best to keep dancing just out of the path of his wanton destruction. The only trouble was, I knew I couldn't keep this up forever, and my opponent wasn't showing any signs of tiring anytime even remotely soon.

For the moment at least, retreat seemed my only available option. That was, until I noticed a steep, cliff-edge just a few steps behind me. Measuring a good four meters out from the wall, the dark abyss spanned the entire length of the chamber. I shuddered to think of the countless prisoners and dishonored Yuuzhan Vong that had undoubtedly been chucked over the side as part of some ritual slaughter or another in service to the evil Vong gods. And judging by his unrelenting forward charge, I had a feeling the Vong commander Dakk Shai eagerly wished to see me share their fate. Well sorry, pal. No chance of that, I'm afraid.

As the charging monster took a big, two-handed swing with his vicious, living weapon, I called upon the Force to leap back across the pit. The soles of my boots connected with hard, yorik coral the next moment, and I pushed off the wall beyond, sending me headlong into a diving roll. Landing about half a meter to Shai's left, my blade snaked out as I rolled for a quick slash at the tender, and infinitely more vulnerable, armor at the side of the knee, slicing thru it like bantha butter, and almost completely severing his lower left leg in the process. The Vong commander howled in pain and outrage, nearly falling off the cliff himself. I completed the roll and came to a stop a full two meters away, landing in a low crouch, lightsaber held aloft in high guard, my offhand thrust defiantly out in front of me.

Turning slowly, he regarded me with what could only be described as cold, wicked amusement, staring at me with those contemptuous, black eyes and grinning that evil, lipless grin. A few moments passed, stretching into forever as the tension slowly built between us. Then he began to stalk towards me, limping only slightly, and I couldn't help but feel the thin chill of fear start to crawl slowly up my spine. Wait, no, come on, he shouldn't even be standing after a wound like that, let alone walking towards me like it was nothing. But walking he was, and the fearsome beast was coming closer by the second.

I was out of options. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide. If I hesitated, I was dead. And if I made the wrong move? Perhaps a fate even worse. Momentarily giving into my very, un-Jedi-like panic, I rushed towards the Vong commander, lightsaber held wide and low. The brilliant, rolling-lunge I had planned in my mind's eye never actually unfolded in reality. No, Shai saw it coming and wrapped me up in his massive, armored arms before I even started to dip my shoulder, tackling me hard to the ground. And I mean **hard**. The breath left my lungs in one, giant OOF! My saber flew from my grasp with the impact, automatically deactivating and reverting back to its standard configuration as it skittered to a stop several meters from my head. I hadn't the slightest clue what had just hit me, but it might as well have been a full-grown bull rancor, judging by how much it hurt. And before I knew it, Dakk Shai was on top and beating me senseless.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Marv._

Barreling down the winding corridor at full speed, the twins and I had abandoned any and all semblance of stealthiness in favor of blind, screaming panic. That sort of thing tends to happen when you have a couple dozen farked-off slantheads chasing you, only one gun with any real firepower between the three of you, and above all, absolutely no idea how much further it is to that durned, Force-forsaken, alien docking bay. To put it simply, we were hanged. Big time. Unless, that is, we happened to stumble upon some sort of miracle, but I wasn't betting on that one. So far it'd been one disaster right after another, and I knew better than to waste my time on last-ditch hopes in a mess like this. No, we keep running, and we live just that much longer. We stop to think; we're dead.

'Course, we were dead anyway, sooner or later. Worse to get it in the back, Marv, when you could just turn around and make a sta-

"Marv! In here, quick!" shouted Yuri, already headed for a large, mossy, bush-like creature to our immediate left. Not one to ask questions given our current desperation, I waited for Yumi to follow her and dove in after them. Not surprisingly, I landed in something dark, dank, and spongy. And I swear, it must've smelled even worse than those old Imperial trash compactors I'd heard about years ago. But it was fine. I could deal with the stench. 'Cuz not more than ten seconds later, those claw-carrying Vong di'kute came running by and, just as quickly, continued down the hallway. Oh Yuri, I could kiss that girl!

But that happy thought paled in comparison to reality as suddenly, I found myself wrapped up in the most unexpected, self-gratifying, post-traumatic group-hug I'd ever been lucky enough to be a part of. Oh, oh…Well, alright there, girls. I'm not about to argue with this. The three of us just lay there together for a long, long moment, savoring our microscopic triumph, not a one of us wanting to face the grim reality of our still, very likely demise. But sadly, our momentary relief couldn't last forever. So, with great reluctance, we untangled ourselves and stood once again.

Peering out thru the bush-thing, I made sure the way was clear before Yuri, Yumi, and I finally left the surprising safety of the living-hedge. We continued down the hallway cautiously, me taking point, Yuri covering our rear, and Yumi stumbling on bravely between us. Minutes passed, and still no sign of the claw-boys. Hey, maybe things are finally starting to go our way. Yeah, we'll just keep our heads down, stay quiet, and we'll be in that ship in no time. And we'll be laughing about all this as we haul shebs to hyperspace. But just as the thought took shape in my stupid, deluded head, we ran headlong into another steaming pile of rancor dung.

No more than thirty meters ahead, where the hall opened up into a large, vast chamber, a grisly scene unfolded. In the middle of a small, sunken, gladiatorial-style pit stood a lone blonde-haired, human female in a beat-up, grey jumpsuit surrounded by four angry, steroid-freak Vong warriors. The girl was armed with just a coufee, the long, chitinous dagger of the Yuuzhan Vong warrior caste, while the warriors each brandished the longer, and much deadlier, amphistaff. Though they lacked the customary vonduun crabshell armor, the Vong's larger stature and superior numbers made them more than a match for one skinny, blonde infidel. Disgusting.

"This must be another one of those sick, Vong torture games," I muttered under my breath. The utter wrongness of the situation caused me to forget for the moment **our** current situation, which was really no less desperate and dangerous. Still, unable to tear my eyes away from the slaughter that was no doubt about to get viciously underway, I continued. "I mean, come on! That girl has absolutely no chance against those tattooed, alien hut'uune." Faced with those kinda odds and so obviously outgunned, even a tough guy like me would've had a rough time coming out on top. The monsters started to casually close in around her, taunting and jeering the near-helpless girl in their guttural, native tongue.

Awww, jeez, Marv. Here you are, toting seven kilos of high-powered, rapid-firing crimson death, and you're powerless to stop them cuz you might just vape the poor girl by accident in the process. And if you tried to run up there and go all "close-quarters combat" on 'em, you'd never make it in time. She'll be dead in seconds. Even if you had a stun grenade, which you don't, odds are the Vong would just shrug it off and then congratulations, idiot! The blonde girl's unconscious, which means you've just made the enemy's job that much easier. Nope, any way you slice it, she's still gonna end up dead. And that means you'll have to just sit here and watch while another innocent meets her untimely end at the clawed, murderous hands of the Yuuzhan Vong. How can you let this happen? I mean, you're the guy whose supposed to protect and serve, right? What a joke.

And so, filled with self-loathing and venomous hatred for the Vong, I watched. Yuri turned to me, eyes expectant. "So, what, are you just gonna stand there, Marv? Do something!" she whispered urgently.

"Nothing I **can** do, sweetheart," came my stoic reply.

"What? Are you nuts? She's as good as dead!" she almost shrieked.

Well, I don't see you rushing off to save her. "Exactly," I whispered, turning to face her. "Listen, Yuri, as much as I want to save that girl, and I do, we can't. I hate to say this, but she's not the only one in danger here. Or have you forgotten the 'claw patrol' who were, until five seconds ago, right on our heels? Face it, honey. You might not like it, but right now, we've got our own problems."

Yuri crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Oh, that's just typical of you, Marv. Always thinking of yourself. You spineless, cowardly nerf—"

"Wait a second! Back up! Ever since I met you I've done nothing but save other people's shebs just in the nick of time. If you call that cowardly, then you need to get to a medcenter and have your head checked!" I replied hotly under my breath.

"Oh, yeah, Marv's so heroic. 'Cause that was all of like, what, two weeks ago? Ooh, look at Marv. Mr. Hero-guy," Yuri whispered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at me.

"Now listen here, you ungrateful, little—"

"Guys," Yumi cut in absently, "just shut up and watch." I turned back to the scene ahead in time to see that the worst was still to come for the young prisoner. The warriors were now slowly closing in around her in an ever-tightening circle of death as the girl, paralyzed with fear no doubt, stood there motionless. They continued to taunt her, amphistaffs hissing and lunging at the poor girl, only to be reigned again just milliseconds before they sunk their poisonous fangs into her vulnerable flesh.

"Oh no! This is gonna get bad," Yuri breathed nervously in my ear.

And she wasn't just whistling Agamar. Barely a second later, one warrior stalked up behind the blonde, his amphistaff raised high above his bald, sloped head. The snake-like weapon went stiff between his hands, its tail instantly flattening to a razor-edge.

Obviously preoccupied with the other three Vong in front of her, the poor girl would never see it coming. She waved the coufee around frantically, keeping the three at bay with one tiny, trembling hand. Although much too far away to make it out in her face, the blonde's body language said it all. The stooped, cringing shoulders. The jerky, erratic movements. This girl was beyond scared. She was downright terrified.

The Vong behind her grinned evilly and swept his weapon down in a powerful strike aimed for the back of her neck. But the blow never landed. Like lightning, the "helpless" girl bowed her head and stepped back to deliver a vicious, back elbow that caught him right under the chin and laid the warrior flat on his back behind her. She immediately followed that up with a short, twisting stomp, and I heard a sharp CRACK! as she easily snapped his neck beneath the sole of her boot. Yowza! Right on, girl. But the little blonde was far from done.

The next warrior lunged at her. She ducked under his attack, and as his momentum took the Vong behind her, the girl flipped her coufee down and buried it in the base of his skull. Ripping it free, bits of bone and brain matter went flying. Another Vong attacked, but she just scooped him up and behind her, flipping him hard onto his back and savagely stabbing him thru the eye.

The fourth warrior got the jump on her and nailed her with an elbow to the jaw. Rather than reeling from the blow, however, she rolled with the impact. Coming up on a knee, the blonde threw her arm up in a wide arc, slashing his throat before he could even think to react. Gurgling and bleeding profusely, the alien sagged to his knees in the pit and died like the others.

What in Kessel just happened? With militaristic precision and a kind of battle-honed grace, this girl just made pretty short work of some larger and undoubtedly stronger opponents. And here I was, thinking she was just another doomed commoner. Jeez, she must be some kind of new, advanced combat droid or a Spec Ops agent or something. 'Cuz after half a minute, not even, those scar-faced freaks littered the ground around her, and the frail-looking woman was the only one still breathing. That was one impressive display of violence. Have to say, I've never been so happy to be proven wrong before.

"Well, I'll be stanged," I started to say, just as another Vong emerged from the shadows behind her. With a menacing snarl, he raised his amphistaff high. The blonde had fallen to her knees and was sucking some serious air. Which of course, left her oblivious to the Vong hut'uun sneaking up behind her. You mean to tell me after living thru all that, she still buys it in the end? Well, not on my watch.

With CorSec-honed swiftness, I snapped my rifle up into firing position. Sighting along the long, durasteel barrel, I gauged the distance to my target. Yep, it'll be a long shot, alright. And with the standard three-round burst on this thing, there's a real good chance I'll hit her, too. But if I sit here and do nothing, she's dead anyway. Muttering a half-hearted prayer to the Force, I took a breath and pulled the trigger.

And the Force must've been listening because just as the good-for-nothing monster began to bring his weapon down for the killing blow, my blast caught him full in the chest, cutting him to ribbons as the sheer force of it launched him backwards. The Vong's lifeless corpse tumbled back into the shadows from whence he'd come.

Twins in tow, I quickly covered the distance between us. The woman lay spread out face down on the floor of the sunken pit, having immediately hit the deck upon hearing the supercharged blast ring out across the large, high-domed chamber. As we approached she quickly scrambled back into a defensive crouch at the far edge of the pit, coufee held out threateningly, eyes glaring red death.

Lowering my weapon, I met her feral gaze with my own, only to realize I was staring into the eyes of a ghost. No...wait a second...but she should be...how in Kessel did she...? But the truth refused to be denied. It was Capt. Zenna Krae. Alive and, by the looks of it, extremely farked-off.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16.**

 _Lowan._

Blow after crushing blow rained down on me from above. I desperately blocked what I could, but it wasn't enough. And I was tiring quickly. There was no denying that. Let's face it, the way things were going, it would only be a matter of time before this monster, Dakk Shai, would tire of playing with me and decide to dish out some serious punishment. That means I have to do something, and quick.

As if reading my thoughts, the muscle-bound Vong commander abruptly ceased his thunderous assault. Peering down at me, his lipless maw spread into a wide, gruesome smile. It was the same ghastly expression, in fact, as the one he wore in that horrid Force-vision I received aboard the troopers' ship on the way here. That eerie grin, amusedly conveying that sense that whatever I did to save her, he and his kind would still turn her to the dark somehow. Whether it happened by force or worse, by Yumi's own tragic fall from grace, the Vong would take something I held so dear and destroy it happily, without the slightest hesitation. Well, I can't let that happen, not to her.

That familiar rage welling up inside me once more, I heaved his massive, armored bulk up and behind me almost effortlessly and landed firmly astride him. So thrilled by the dark power now flowing within me, I was barely conscious of the lightsaber flying into my hand and snapping into blazing existence in the next instant. Time slowed to a crawl as I felt myself grip the weapon tightly in both hands and raise it high, it's glowing blade pointing straight at the bewildered Vong's throat. Every fiber in my being ached to ram the incandescent-blue blade home in that moment, ending this creature's foul existence once and for all in one gloriously vengeful stroke. Yes, this monster deserves to die! But wait, if I kill him in anger, I'll be no better than my enemy. And what's more, I won't be me anymore. No! I can't do it! What good is winning this war if we must fall to the Dark side to do it?

My moment's hesitation was all Dakk Shai needed to turn the situation to his advantage once again. In a blur of controlled motion, he swatted my blade aside and hit me with a backhand so vicious that it knocked me backward and sent me sprawling. I turned back to face him just in time to catch a venomous blast of amphistaff spit full in the face, the shock of which threw me to the ground once more. I scrambled backward, panic starting to creep in as quickly as my vision started to cloud. I swung my lightsaber around wildly in front of me in a desperate attempt to ward off any incoming attacks. This is bad, Lowan. Really, really bad. Better think of something fast before it gets worse.

The jarring sensation I felt in the next moment when his armored knee connected solidly against my chin told me it already had. The impact rattled my skull and sent me flying. Shaking out the cobwebs when I landed a couple meters away, it occured to me that this yorik coral floor was getting way too familiar. Come on, Lowan. You have to get up. You've got to keep on fighting. People are counting on you. You can't let them down now.

But I feared I had already lost. The panic I felt before had now become a gnawing fear in my gut that grew ever stronger as a cold tingle crawled ever so slowly up my spine. Hopelessness quickly followed, accompanied by a nagging sense of complete and utter failure worse than I had ever experienced.

No, force it back down. Self-pity will do you no good. Fear only serves to cloud the mind. And since I was blind already, that was one more mistake I just could not afford to make. Besides, a clear head invites opportunities to present themselves. Right? I took a deep, calming breath. With the press of a button, I deactivated my lightsaber. Relax, Lowan. Trust in the Force.

Taking another deep breath, I stretched out with my senses. There. I could hear him now. His low, bass chuckle echoed throughout the vast, sweeping expanse of the dimly lit chamber, amphistaff hissing maliciously to itself. His armored boots slowly struck the yorik coral floor, coming ever closer, stalking his way toward me. Of course he would revel in his moment of triumph. I was already defeated in his sunken, black eyes. Why rush it? Dakk Shai, the arrogant and proud Vong commander that he was, was going to enjoy every second of this. And Dakk Shai was going to regret that he didn't finish me off when he had the chance.

I waited for him to get closer, every muscle in my body outwardly calm, but inwardly tensed for action. Patience, Lowan. You won't get another shot at this. He came closer. I fought the urge to tighten my right hand on the hilt of my weapon. Easy, you can't give him any warning of your intentions. Wait. He was so close now I could hear his breath flowing in and out of his armor-clad chest. Then his heavy footsteps came to an abrupt stop in front of me.

As I expected, Shai stood motionless for a few, long moments. It just wouldn't do to dispose of such a stubborn infidel so quickly. He meant for me to suffer, to quake in terror and the agonizing anticipation of what gruesome fate was surely in store for me now. But I lay perfectly still instead, defiantly refusing to give him the satisfaction which he undoubtedly felt he deserved.

The Vong snorted indignantly. How dare I defy someone as great as himself. He was Lord Shai, and he demanded terrified supplication! But still, I refused to give it to him. Outraged, the monster roared in anger. And the second I heard his amphistaff begin to cut thru the air above my head I ignited my weapon with a loud, snap-hiss. Leaning up on my free hand, I swept my blade to the left in a low, wide slash, immediately following that up with an upward slash back to my right. A bellowed grunt of surprise, followed by a dull thud on the coral floor behind him were the only indications that my desperate attack had succeeded at all.

But I couldn't stop to verify my assumptions. I had neither the time nor the strength left to risk on such thorough, yet obviously foolhardy pursuits. I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could manage and staggered out of the throne room into the sweltering hallway beyond. I kept hobbling along painfully for at least ten meters down the corridor, and still no rapid footsteps coming from behind me. I allowed myself to relax, however slightly.

And with the adrenaline fading in my veins, the sickness came raging back tenfold. Exhaustion mixed with a gut-twisting nausea made it a struggle just to stay upright, let alone calm myself enough to reach out to the Force to guide my way. Navigating by feel and sound alone, I blindly stumbled down the corridor, hoping that somehow, someway despite the impossible odds rapidly piling up against me, I would find my way back to the ship. And with it, my beleaguered friends.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Marv._

"Drop it, she-witch."

Zenna just stared at me, blatant distrust showing in her steely, grey eyes. Hey, I didn't blame her. Last time we met she tried to kill me and my buddy, Janson. That's not the kind of thing one easily forgets. Guess she hadn't forgotten, either.

A long moment passed between us. Just try it, lady. Then we can be done with it. Another moment. She still didn't budge. I'm serious, honey. Don't think I won't do it. And another. Does this chick want me to blast her? I cocked my rifle and raise it up level with those defiant, grey orbs. Not even a flinch.

I was just about to haul off and vape the durned, stubborn woman when finally, she broke, her cold, determined stare softening into a sultry smile. "Okay, officer. Anything you say," she oozed, dropping the coufee at my feet with a playful wink. I did my best to ignore her tempting pout and kicked the weapon away.

"Cute, lady. Real cute," I said, my rifle not wavering a centimeter. "Now, get up. You're coming with us."

"Gladly, loverboy. I've been dying to get out of here," she replied, gingerly getting to her feet.

"I could help you with that," said Yuri, cocking her heavy blaster and leveling it at Krae, blood-rage smoldering in those big, hazel eyes.

"Yuri, what in the hells are you doing?" I asked, eyeing her incredulously. I mean, come on. Had she gone completely nuts? I mean, sure. Desperate times call for desperate measures. But there's a time and a place, babe. And now definitely ain't it. "Zenna hasn't done anything wro—"

Yuri swung her blaster over, aiming it straight at my chest. I felt my hands instinctively fly up in front of me, in the classic 'Don't blast me, please!' pose. "Stow it, Marv. The Vong tried to kill my sister. If not for you, they would have." She swung the weapon back to Krae, "And spineless cowards like you have been rounding up Jedi like her all over the galaxy as part of your big, retarded plan to get on the aliens' good side.

"Last time I checked, you chuff-sucking leech, you threw your lot in with those hut'unne. I figure that makes you just as guilty. So, if Marv's too much of a wuss to dole out a little, well-deserved justice when need be, don't worry, honey. I have no qualms about getting the job done myself." Her anger was palpable now, just barely held in check. But personal vengeance was too strong to hold inside forever. I knew that all too well myself. Wouldn't be long now before she exploded with the loud and furious storm of blind, unrelenting violence.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, crazy girl," Zenna said quickly, "I never tried to kill your sister. I didn't know you had a sister! I've never even met you before!"

"Doesn't matter," I said, eyeing Yuri very carefully. I glanced back to Zenna. "You're Peace Brigade, and they work for the Vong. So, ipso facto: you have to pay. That about right, sweetie?"

Yuri nodded, not taking her eyes off Krae for a second. In fact, she placed another hand on the blaster in an effort to stop it from shaking so much. Okay now, Marv ol' buddy. This is gonna get real ugly real quick if you don't do something soon. But you can't shoot Yuri, and you sure as Kessel can't take your eyes off Krae. So what **do** you do?

"That…that's insane!" exclaimed Zenna, eyes darting around nervously. She looked to me in desperation, "Come on, CorSec…Help me here…You can talk her down, right?"

In theory? Yes. In reality? I wasn't so sure. I'd seen a lot of desperate shooters in my day, but never one that was supposed to be on my side. A situation like that ain't exactly in the training manual. But still, I had to try. "Now, Yuri, think about this for a second—" I started to say.

"I am thinking about this, Marv!" she replied hotly. "She's a criminal and a traitor to the New Republic. Maybe you've forgotten that, but I haven't!"

"Okay, honey. I get that. I really do," I said, hopefully soothingly, easing my hands down slowly. "But if you blast her now, in cold blood, that makes you a murd—"

"I wasn't finished," she said, giving me the proverbial 'stare of death.' My hands shot back up quickly in response. She continued, "She's a traitor, yes, but more importantly, she's Peace Brigade. And you know as well as I do just how many Jedi and Jedi students those good-for-nothing, soulless dungsuckers have handed over to the Vong since their warmaster offered his so-called 'truce' after the Fall of Duro."

"If it makes any difference to ya, love, I haven't been too keen on renewing my membership since the Vong tried to have me killed," Zenna said cautiously.

Yuri gave her a hard look. Her words were slow, and dangerously quiet, "You. Shut. Up." Then she turned back to me. "Like I was saying. Marv, I need you to be with me on this. She needs to pay. If people like her are allowed to run free in this galaxy without any consequences whatsoever, then sooner or later they'll…Hey!" she said in surprise as the blaster suddenly flew from her hands and into the hand of her twin. She was about to protest when Yumi put a hand up to stop her.

"We don't have time for this, sis," Yumi said matter of factly, re-activating the blaster's safety with the press of a button. Her twin looked back at her in utter disbelief. She opened her mouth to protest, but Yumi shook her head, silently warning her sister off. Gesturing back up the hallway with a lone, upturned palm, she continued, an eerie distance to her tone, "We've got bigger problems now."

Glancing back that way myself, I discovered to my utter horror just how much of an understatement that was. Charging down the hallway toward us at full speed were over fifty Yuuzhan Vong warriors, all fully armed and fully bent on our immediate destruction. Sithspit! It never ends!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17.**

Krae turned to me, shrugging in mock-nonchalance. "Time to run?" she asked before bolting down the hall away from the amphistaff-wielding warriors in the next moment. I nodded frantically and took off after her, the twins hot on my boot-clad heels. Screaming like schoolgirls, me included, we ran.

The echoes of our fearful cries nearly overpowered the chorus of snarls and grunts coming from the monsters at our backs. As my companions and I ran, we desperately searched the darkened walls of the corridor up ahead for that durned, elusive docking bay, or at the very least, a good place to hide. Fierfek! No such luck! Well, Marv ol' boy, you always knew those odds would catch up with ya someday. Guess that day's today. It was nice knowin' ya, buddy.

I snapped out of my morbid reverie just in time to spot one of the claw-troops from out of the corner of my eye as he sprung rapidly ahead of the pack. He leapt high in the air, bouncing off the wall to my right, and diving straight for my throat, bone-claws first. Awww, jeez. This is gonna hurt.

Feeling my shoulders cringe in anticipation, I tried to run faster. Hey, who knows? Maybe he'll miss me. I spared a glance over my shoulder just in time to see the tattooed beast above me come swooping down and…suddenly explode into a veritable shower of blood and entrails which proceeded to rain its gooey mass down upon me. Awww, man! Why's it gotta be entrails? Yuri only got covered in blood before. Sheesh.

"Looks like somebody needs a 'fresher. Real, real bad. Eh, CorSec?" joked a familiar, gravelly voice from just up ahead. Wiping the Vong guts from my eyes I looked up to see Bertrand, one of those hardcore, trooper dudes Lowan brought with him to save us in the first place. He was leaning up against the yorik coral wall to my right, a half-smoked cigar dangling from the side of his wide, grinning mouth and his trusty, ol' T-21 blaster rifle slung casually across his lomin ale-hardened gut.

"So, brought an army with ya, did ya?" he snorted, gesturing to the horde of Vong that was rapidly closing the distance behind us. Then the big man shrugged and took a long drag from the cigar. "Gee, I didn't get **you** anything." Pushing off of the wall with a grunt and no apparent concern showing on his bearded face, Bertrand pointed us to the entrance of a low, dim-lit hallway behind him and around the corner. "Ship's in there, kids. Step lively, now. Don't have all day," he chuckled with the bravado of a man who'd stared down death more than a few times.

I staggered over to the trooper. "Where's Johnson and Sheckil?" I asked. The big man stiffened, his cheerful expression instantly souring into a hard-eyed glare that answered my question for me. Dead, just like Riley only minutes before. Without another word, he looked away, waving us back the way he came.

Bracing his rifle against his hip, Bertrand hung back around the corner, stoically covering us as we hurried into the darkened tunnel behind him. Just a short jog later we emerged into an enormous, high-walled chamber. Judging by the various, rock-like Vong 'starships' parked along the walls, I made the safe assumption that we had **finally** arrived at the worldship's fabled main docking bay. Thank the Force, Marv!

'Cuz at the far end of this huge room rested the instrument of our salvation, the New Rep. commandos' rescue ship. A battle-worn, YT-2000 light freighter, it wasn't really anything to write home about. At this moment though, it was the prettiest sight these eyes had ever seen. I almost began to let myself believe that this hellish, unending nightmare might finally be coming to a surprisingly happy end. But we aren't out of this mess yet, old man. You can celebrate later, when there aren't any blood-raging, scar-headed freaks chasing you down, intent on killing you and your friends in only the slowest and most painful way imaginable.

So, consciously reigning in my strong, newfound sense of joy-filled relief, I fixed Zenna with an authoritative stare. "Krae, Yumi, to the ship. Now," I said with CorSec-efficiency. And surprisingly, the blonde woman complied without offering the slightest fuss or even a vaguely flirty, sarcastic remark. No, she just threw the exhausted Jedi's arm over her shoulder, and the two raced for the freighter as fast as their tired, stumbling legs would carry them.

"Marv, they're coming!" cried Yuri, violently wrenching my attention back to the almost-comically impossible task at hand. She was staring wide-eyed back towards the entrance, absolute crippling-terror showing in her big, hazel eyes. Yeah, thanks babe. I have to say, I was grateful for the warning anyway, though it was kinda redundant. The horrifying sound of the Vong army's armoured boots thundering on the yorik coral toward us was hard not to notice. But I tried my best not to wonder what 'fun' we'd be having once the death-dealing monsters started funneling into the docking bay and naturally, began to surround us. Just get them to the ship, Marv. Then you can worry about what to do next.

"Alright," I said, my voice wavering only slightly from the paralyzing fear now threatening to get the better of me. "Let's get the kriff outta here. Full retreat, people!"

Suiting action to words, I brought my rifle up to cover the archway and started hurriedly backpedaling towards the ship. Yuri and Bertrand followed my lead, each of them bringing blasters to bear and immediately following me in a rapid, tactical retreat. Though sadly, we were only about halfway to the freighter when the first wave of the mighty, Vong horde began pouring thru the gaping hangar bay sphincter, all roaring throaty battlecries and waving their amphistaffs menacingly. Then, as I knew it had to, all hells broke loose.

"Fire at will!" I screamed to the others as I unloaded several high-powered bursts from my own weapon. A handful of Vong let out a chorus of guttural yells as they fell to the ground, charred smoking holes left in the torsos of their black, vonduun crabshell armor. My companions loosed a barrage of blasterfire from the barrels of their own guns, Bertrand's, a rapid, high-energy burst like mine and Yuri's, a series of short, precise blasts aimed for any vital spots she could possibly target. More Vong fell, but the filthy barves kept on coming. Filling in immediately to take the place of their fallen brethren, they carelessly stepped over their lifeless corpses and continued the charge, blazing hatred shining in their sunken, black eyes.

Suddenly I heard Yuri's shrill cry to my left, "There's too many of them, Marv! We'll never make it!" I kept on blasting Vong, only to see more warriors immediately reinforce their charging, front line. Awww, jeez. Maybe the girl's right, old man. No, don't give up now. Others' lives depend on it.

"Fall back, people! Fall back!" I yelled out in response, backing up faster myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bertrand shouting something indistinct into the comm headset he wore over his left ear. I figured he had to be calling for backup because if he wasn't, we were farkled, for sure. And sure enough, a couple more beams of high-powered blasterfire joined ours from behind a few moments later, streaming out from the direction of the freighter and more or less covering our escape. Huh, thanks, big guy.

With that, the trooper turned and bolted for the ship, his arms wildly sawing the air in an all-out, desperate effort to close the distance more quickly. But he never made it back to the ship, nor the relative safety of its already-lowered access ramp. Just ten meters before Bertrand reached the freighter, a razorbug flew out from somewhere in the mass of charging Vong. The nasty lil' creature caught him square in the back, knocking the big man to the ground with a pain-filled grunt. He stopped moving altogether after that.

Stang, and I was just starting to halfway-like the ol' barvy, son of a gundark. Ah well, that happens in war sometimes. Does no good to anybody to dwell on it any further than that. Especially since I still had dozens of mean-looking, snarling immediate problems in front of me to worry about already.

"Marv!" came Yuri's panicked wail from my left. I looked over and found her nervously blasting a virtually never-ending wave of Vong warriors, their grinning, lipless maws coming closer every second. Aiming my rifle to take them out with another high-energy burst, I pulled the trigger. **CLICK!** No! Sithspawn! Not now! Of all the times!

Unslinging my rifle, I tossed the now-useless weapon to the ground and quickly drew my vibrodagger and the coufee I had taken out of the cold, dead hands of my personally deaded prison guard. Without the slightest regard for my own personal safety, I launched into a diving roll that landed me between the young pilot and her grunting, tattooed attackers.

Amphistaffs swinging all around me, I slashed and stabbed at anything that moved. The Vong continued their vicious assault, but, flying into a sort of blind, blood-rage myself, I managed to evade every powerful, deadly strike of theirs and return it with my own. These guys may have been fierce opponents, but filled with vengeful hatred as I was, I was fiercer. And after all I'd been through, all of the loved ones I've had to watch suffer and die beside me now…Now, they went after my possible, maybe-if-we-live-thru-this girlfriend? Well, I can't have that. You filthy, Vong beasts have lit a raging fire inside my heart, and you better pray to your heathen gods you can escape before it consumes you all. **I am Marv, stang it! And all of you are now the walking dead!**

Focusing strictly on vitals, the eyes, throat, and the weak joints in their armor at the armpit, groin, and the back of the knee, I carved up over a dozen of them in twice as many seconds. So awesome was my ferocious assault that, for a few moments at least, the Vong-mob gave pause, their forward push slowing to a near-dead stop. That's right, hut'unne. Fear me, Marv the Terrible!

Adrenaline pumping thru my veins like hot, white lightning, I slashed the throats of two warriors with one whirling strike. Instantly dropping to a knee, I sank the coufee into the knee joint of the next, freeing his head from his shoulders with my vibrodagger as he fell. Then I rolled under another's whipping strike and came up thrusting both blades to the hilt under his arm and straight thru to his black, murderous heart. The Vong died with a gurgling, spasmodic grunt, then I kicked him free of my blades and used the momentum to carry me into a backward roll that ended me in a brief, defensive crouch.

I was just about to spring towards my next, wholly deserving victim when I saw a fist-sized thud bug zip past my left ear. Less than half a second later, I heard a startled yelp of pain from Yuri. Turning in urgent disbelief, I saw her lying on the yorik coral floor, looking a bit dazed and rubbing a newly bruised shoulder. The mere sight of it made my blood boil even more than before. That does it, you dirty, Vong chakaare. Now you're all gonna pay. I swear it.

I turned back around, growling like a rabid wampa on glitterstim, seeing nothing but red before my wide, bloodshot eyes. Anger rolling off me in waves, I failed to notice the armored elbow of the next Vong warrior before it cracked into my temple and sent me sprawling. Time seemed to slow way down as I hit the ground with a sharp, wet smack.

Vision blurring and hearing a loud ringing in my ears, I could barely make out the faint, snap-hiss of a lightsaber from some undeterminable distance behind me. I rolled my head around lazily to investigate, and, to my vaguely pleasant surprise, spot a hooded, brown-robed figure vaulting out of the distant freighter, flipping high in the air, and landing, headed in my direction at blinding speed. And sure enough, he was carring a pair of short, green-bladed lightsabers. Oh hey, must be Lowan's friend. Ain't that fun? And with that, friends and neighbors, I, almost-joyfully, passed out.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Zee._

Okay, Zee. This is it. I stood on the landing ramp of the ritzy, new Corellian freighter, dressed in the traditional tan and brown robes of a Jedi Knight. My lightsaber held loosely in my right hand, I whispered a prayer to the Force and raised my hood up over my head. The shadow it cast obscured the top half of my face and concealed my young and annoyingly, still-boyish features. With the press of a button, the ramp emitted a soft hissing sound and lowered smoothly to the deck. I walked halfway down it and ignited my lightsaber. The glowing, green blade flashed to life with that familiar snap-hiss which instantly faded to a warm, gentle hum.

Then I closed my eyes and took a long, slow deep breath. I opened my eyes again and gazed out at the horrid scene playing out in front of me. Good thing you Vong like pain so much. 'Cuz you're about to get a rapid, healthy dose of the stuff courtesy of this highly-motivated Jeedai infidel. Alright, Zee. Showtime.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18.**

Taking a few running steps to the edge of the ramp, I leapt off and launched myself into a high, Force-assisted flip that carried me up and away from the freighter in true, dramatic fashion. Ha! Eat that, holodrama stuntmen! Tumbling high in the air, I switched my lightsaber over to Phase II: Dual-Dagger Mode, favoring a higher rate of attack over effective range at this stage in the game. My synth-leather boots hit smoothly on the deck a moment later, and I poured on a burst of speed with the Force, covering the remaining distance to my enemies in the blink of an eye.

Turning, ducking, flipping, spinning, slashing, I launched headlong into a dizzying offensive. At this, the Vong warriors surrounding me actually backed up a couple steps, as if momentarily forgetting their obvious numerical advantage. Hey, that's okay, guys. Your hesitation just gives my friends more time to make good on their escape, and that makes my job just that much easier. Still, I knew that even a Jedi as highly-skilled as myself couldn't keep up a defense like this forever, and as such, decided it was better to keep things moving. I threw a glance over my shoulder to the wounded pair on the ground behind me. "Hey, you two on the floor! Get to the ship! I'm pretty sure we've worn out our welcome!" I said, urgency underlying my playful tone.

Briefly, I noticed the girl rouse from her panic-induced stupor and stagger carefully to her feet. "Huh? Oh, okay. No problems here," she murmured wearily to herself.

The guy, on the other hand, didn't respond. It seemed he was still too busy being unconscious to offer up any sort of acknowledgment of my warning words. I turned my attention back to the relentless Vong horde while the girl stumbled over and tried to shake him awake.

"Marv. Marv! MARV!"

Her desperate cries rang torturously in my ears. But I did my best to shut them out. I hated to ignore a girl in such obvious need of helping, especially one as beautiful as her. But she was safe. Well, safe for the moment, at least. And I had a job to do, a very important one at that. I gave Lowan my word that I would cover our escape until **everyone** made it safely back to the ship so we could get the kriff outta here before we all got our premature deaths handed to us on a big, dripping, bloody platter. That meant I had to keep going, push the pain and tiredness aside, no matter how long it took.

Less vaguely, that meant I, Zevan L'oht, had to focus. And, by the Force, I would do just that. I was gonna withstand this never-ending onslaught of the vicious, Vong beast single-handedly, until I finally saw the pony-tailed head of my nerf-brained, best friend appear in the entrance of this docking bay-turned-warzone. Then we'd run like Kessel back to that junk heap of a freighter behind me, blast our way off of this stinkin', swamp-rock, and jump our sorry butts to the warm, blue-white safety of hyperspace already!

"Get up, baby," I heard the girl pleading to her still sleeping, still totally un-helpful guy-friend. "You have to get up!" Now granted, I was sure she was doing her best to wrest him from his blissful unconsciousness. But frankly, it didn't seem to be working too well at that moment.

"Y-yuri…is that you?" he asked groggily. Okay, guess it was working better than I thought.

The girl continued worriedly, "Marv, we've got to get out of here. We don't have much time." An amphistaff whipping right past my left ear put a deadly emphasis on that statement. No, you think so? I batted it aside with my left saber and quickly slashed the wielder's throat with my right.

"But, but what about Lowan?" he asked her, dazedly mentioning my best friend's name. Upon hearing it, I froze for half a second, almost catching a coufee strike to my stomach in the process. Whoa! Careful there, Zee. This isn't the Jedi Academy back on Yavin. This is real.

The girl replied quickly, "He's Corellian like you. Anything's possible, right?" Ain't that the truth, sister? My buddy was always beating the odds. I had the sabacc debt to prove it.

Killing yet another warrior, I quickly shouted back to them, "She's right. He'll make it. But he didn't…ah…die, you gundark! He didn't come all the way out here just so you two could die on him before he got back. You got me? Get to the ship, both of you. Even I can't hold them off forever!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them both begin their wobbling retreat and immediately felt a giant wave of relief flow over me. Whew! Okay now, boys. Let's dance! Finally having some room to maneuver, I stepped it up at least another ten notches. Gathering the Force within myself, I whipped my blades around me like a swirling, Tattooinian sandstorm of luminescent, green fury.

Spinning to the right, I dropped to a crouch and quickly slashed the knee of one warrior, immediately following it up with a backward stab to the groin of another behind me. Throwing myself into a forward flip, I knocked the next warrior down with a two-footed stomp to the chest, pushing off and flowing right into a twisting, downward slash to take out the next one after him. Alright now, Zee. Surrender yourself to the Force. Let go of your physical self and let it direct your movements. You are totally **this** awesome! An amphistaff sliced a gash in my pant-leg just above the knee. Okay, so maybe it's not a good idea to get cocky just yet.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. Sweet, they're almost to the freighter! Only a couple more seconds. Hold on, Zee. Hold on. Oh, crap. More of them. What, did they alert the whole garrison? Hey, party in the hangar bay! Live music! Free food! This situation is getting more hopeless by the second. Gah!

Drawing on the Force once again, I sprinted back to the ship, reconnecting and reclipping my lightsaber as I went and practically shoving the 'stumble twins' onto the ramp ahead of me. Then I slapped the 'close' panel with a flick of the Force and barreled on towards the cockpit at breakneck speed, stopping just long enough to grab the girl by the arm and haul her along with me. She's supposed to be a pilot, right? I thought I remembered Lowan saying something like that. 'Course, it wouldn't really matter if she's too traumatized to function anyway. I guess we'll find out pretty quick either way.

"Man the guns!" I shouted back to the guy who was still trying to catch his breath on the floor of the cargo hold behind us, not really caring if he heard me or not. No time for that now. Get to the controls, Zee. And get the kriff outta here!

We turned the corner and raced for the cockpit hatchway dead ahead. Sliding into the pilot's seat and doing a quick scan of the primary systems, I was both surprised and relieved to hear her dropping into the copilot's chair above and behind me and doing the same. Okay, Zee! Maybe you're not alone in this after all. I fired up the repulsors, lifting the freighter from the deck slowly and turning it back around toward the fast-approaching army of ugly, angry Vong warriors we just ran away from.

Rapidly pulling up the targeting data on my control board's HUD, I took a deep breath and grasped the control yoke in front of me with barely-contained enthusiasm. Hehehe, too late now, boys. Daddy's got a little present for ya. With a self-satisfied smirk duraplasted firmly across my face, I brought the heavy, dual-laser cannons online. Then I aimed, gleefully pulled the trigger, and held it down hard and long.

Coruscating bolts of crimson energy leapt out from above and below the rounded cockpit in that low, booming, THWUMP, THWUMP, THWUMP, just annihilating the enemy contingent, cutting down wave after wave of snarling, tattooed bodies and instantly vaporizing them in their dark, crabshell carapaces. And in a matter of seconds, all that was left of the alien garrison were their charred, smoldering remains strewn sparsely over the smooth, yorik coral floor. Well, stang! That worked better than I thought it would. Wonder why we didn't try that sooner. Huh.

Then the girl, I think her name was Hurry or Surrey, or something like that, looked up from the scanners excitedly. "Hey," she said, "there he is, at the end of the hangar!" She was halfway out of her chair and emphatically pointing out the forward viewport by that point.

Savoring our victory and, as such, reluctant to lean up from the back of my chair just yet, I nodded in mild acknowledgement. "Yep." I had already sensed my buddy's arrival thru the Force, so I wasn't exactly surprised by her joyous, if not a little obvious, revelation. But I reached for the maneuvering controls anyway a moment later, and a sharp, pained voice crackled from the cockpit speaker.

"Kid," rasped Bertrand in a thick, wet, and obviously dying tone, "Colaf's…over by the…entrance. You've gotta…save…him." Well, jeepers, thanks for the heads up, there, chief. I was gonna! I mean, **really** , people. Jedi here, hello! Force-sensitive best friends who've shared a telepathic link since childhood! I knew he was coming waaaayyy before you jokers did! Uh-duh.

Grumbling to myself endlessly, I reached for the controls once again. I mean, what, they think I was just gonna leave him? Seriously, people. Seriously. Well, at least the big ape out there finally learned the teeniest smidgen of compassion. Can I get a big 'yay!' for that dude? I mean, talk about character growth. Just, wow, man. Wow.

Suddenly, I felt a slight shudder run thru the cockpit, and I felt myself instantly freeze in response. "You feel that?" I asked the girl in the copilot's seat. She shrugged. Then I felt it again, more insistent this time. "There it is again." The girl nodded this time, perplexed. Was there something wrong with the repulsors? Maybe the inertial compensator was on the fritz or something.

The cockpit bucked once again, but even harder than before. She flipped a switch, activating the external audio sensors. In the next instant, the cockpit speaker crackled to life, and a low, rolling rumble began filling the air between the two of us. Uh-oh. What in the blazes is tha—

"Guys," said another voice over the ship's intercom, "I'm in the dorsal turret. You're not gonna believe this, but I think the roof's closing in on us." Looking up thru the forward viewport, I saw that this Marv guy's assessment was dead on. Um, okay. Not good, Zee. Not good at all.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _Marv._

Guess all that hammering from the forward guns must've pished this rock off something fierce. Nice job, kid. I mean, come on, people. Am I really the only one who's been paying any attention in the last year and a half? **Everything** these aliens use for anything is **alive**! Jeez, you'd think that of all the stuff the New Rep. scientists have figured out about the wild and wacky world of Vong technology, even the biggest, yokel di'kut'd know that simple fact by now. Sheesh. Y'know, I pass out for one second, and the next thing I know, some Jedi kid's running the show, and the kriffin' sky is falling. I tell ya, ol' man. Just when you think things couldn't get any worse…

Adjusting my comlink to the ship's general frequency, I quickly started unbuckling myself from the dorsal turret's veritable army of safety restraints.

"Alright, people. Listen up. We don't have much time, so new plan: We go pick up my buddy over there, and then we get the hells outta here. Deal? Okay. Now, I'll head down to the cargo hold and hang myself off the landing ramp. Zee, fly this bucket of durasteel scrap as fast and low as possible without scraping my head on the durned floor. Then, turn around and head for the far end of the hangar as soon as I've got him.

"Yuri, you keep an ear on the comm and be ready to fire a couple of concussion missiles like we did the last time. I'll give you the signal the second we're clear. Then I'll hightail it back here to the guns. And don't forget, we don't have a clue how many of these Vong chakaare are out there orbiting this hunk of Force-forsaken rock, so I'll be countin' on you two for some real, fancy flying once we blow this joint and the real fun begins. As soon as we're out of range, we'll jam it into hyperspace. Then we can finally escape this never-ending, Vong nightmare and wake up to something cold, smooth, and highly alcoholic. Any questions, people; ask 'em now."

Harboring absolutely no intentions of just sitting there and waiting for a response, I undid the last strap and scrambled down the transfer ladder, back up the corridor, and into the cargo hold beyond. I heard the forward repulsors kick in with a faint, whirring shudder. A quick slap on the "open" panel, and the ramp lowered down, it's flat, durasteel edge skimming barely a meter from the hangar bay floor now racing rapidly past beneath us. I clambered down and anchored myself, as best I could, to the foremost of the hydraulic lifting struts. Okay, Marv. Time to see if this crazy plan of yours'll actually work.

Time slowed down as the next, crucial chain of events unfolded. Weary legs wrapped tightly around the strut, my left arm clenched in a grip that I could only hope was half as secure as it felt, my right stretched desperately toward the floor. Wind whipped violently past me, stinging my eyes as I struggled to keep them open. Lowan was dead ahead now, limping heavily, getting closer by the second. Hang in there, kid. Ol' Marv is coming for ya.

Thirty meters to go now. Twenty-five, twenty. Fifteen. Come on, buddy. Almost there. Then I saw him start to fall. Sithspawn! Not now! I leaned down a little farther and saw a flash of green sleeve. I closed my hand around it as quick as I could and felt, as much as heard, a big **SNAP!** in reward for the effort as my arm yanked painfully behind me. Yep, that arm's shot. Probably dislocated, too. Truth be told, I had no idea how in Kessel I managed to actually hold on at all. But at that moment, it hurt way too much to wonder the how's and why's of it, so I didn't bother caring. All I knew was my glitbiter's plan was still lightyears away from being a successful one.

I gritted my teeth and tried to pull the Jedi in. Ow! Emperor's Black Heart! Yep, I had a feeling that wasn't gonna work. Better think of something else, old man. And soon. Time was running out already before you even had this stupid idea of yours, let alone somehow convinced the others it wasn't half as insane as it sounded on flimsy.

But then, somehow, some way, Lady Luck threw us all a big, ol' smooch right when we needed it the most. As the other Jedi whipped the Corellian starship around like I had told him to earlier, the sudden change in momentum ended up pulling me and Lowan around and practically hurling us, like ragdolls, back up into the cargo hold. I landed hard, cracking my head on the far bulkhead and crumpling slowly to the deck. Fighting unconsciousness, I pulled myself up to my knees and slapped the 'close' panel which just so happened to appear directly above my head. The ramp raised with a faint hiss, as if mocking me with its cool, mechanical ease.

I sank back down, leaning heavily against the bulkhead and wanting very much to just pass out already, okay, again. Unfortunately for me, I didn't have that luxury, not yet anyway. Pulling my comlink from my belt, I raised it to my lips and tiredly spoke into it. "Alright, babe. We're in. Get us outta here, would ya?"

A moment later, a light-hearted male voice sounded from the comlink's speaker. "Sure thing, stud." Funny, Zee. Real cute. I sighed, shaking my head in mild annoyance. He continued, "Just hold on back there. This might get a little rough."

Switching the comlink off, I wearily tossed it to the floor. Then I looked up to see my young Jedi friend sprawled almost lifeless on the cold, metal deck plates. I shuffled over to him with a grunt and, nearly falling over myself, pulled him slowly to his feet, throwing his arm over my left, and still good, shoulder. The sound of approaching footsteps turned my attention toward the hatchway. There, standing cautiously behind a bulkhead, was Zenna Krae.

I sobered instantly as the adrenaline shot thru my veins in that moment and kicked my CorSec 'danger sense' straight back to high alert. Lowan noticed her, too, apparently. "Yumi…Where is she?" he asked, gazing vaguely in her direction.

"Back in sickbay," she answered, sounding oddly helpful. "I'll take you to her." I almost handed him over to her, but I hesitated, suddenly hearing Janson's

voice in my ear. _'Don't trust her, Marv. She tried to kill you before, remember?'_ Oh, I remembered, alright. I leveled a suspicious glance at the tall blonde in front of me. If I had a blaster right now, you can bet I'd be training that on her, too. She met my gaze easily, the stoic acceptance of a defeated warrior showing in those dull, grey eyes.

A brief tremor rolled thru the hold, a sure sign that Yuri had just fired the concussion missiles. You're out of time, old boy. You gotta trust her. You've got no other choice. I nodded slowly, the unspoken threat still hanging in the air between us. Then I handed him over.

Krae took his weight pretty well, albeit not without some difficulty. Carefully adjusting him across her broad, muscular back, she looked up, a glimmer of hope starting to shine thru that tired, regretful wince. "Alright, I got him. Now, go on. It's about time you finished that daring rescue you started a couple weeks ago on Gyndine," she finished, genuine gratitude creeping into her usually smoky, sultry alto.

She turned to leave. I threw her a hard, warning glare that stopped the woman dead in her tracks. With a nervous smile Zenna added, "Don't worry, Marv. These days, **prison** sounds a lot more fun to me than **death**. I'll take care of them."

All my worries addressed for the moment, I turned in the direction of my station in the dorsal turret. I heard her voice fading back down the corridor. "Hey, Marv," she said, "Thanks again." With that, something like pride welled in my gut for the briefest of moments. Then in the next, it was gone. And off I went, to save the day at least one more time. Just barely, as always.


	19. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

As I stared into the bottom of my third glass of Whyren's Reserve, I could almost begin to forget all the nasty things those scarheaded chakaare had put us thru during our luxurious, extended stay aboard the massive, 'Vong Hotel o' Big, Painful Death.' Swishing the fiery, amber liquid around in my mouth for a few seconds, I swallowed my anger down along with it before the raw emotion threatened to devour me from the inside out one more time. Then I took a long, deep breath.

It had been three days now since we escaped that dim-lit, interstellar hellhole and its accompanying task force of bristling, Vong warships. And after the big, Coruscanti ticker-tape parade immediately followed by that impromptu military promotion ceremony broadcast simultaneously over a dozen Holonews stations across the galaxy, here we were. A much smaller, more intimate celebration, the guest list consisted of only a dozen or so close friends and 'more or less adopted' family. Amongst those in attendance at this more informal gathering were Adm. Wes Janson, Gen. Wedge Antilles, his wife, Iella Wessiri-Antilles, Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker, Corran Horn, and his wife, Mirax Terrik-Horn, to name a few.

Now, while the thing may sound like some crazy 'Heroic Corellians of the Century' convention or a 'Rogue Squadron Alums (And Their Wives)' charity ball, I assure you, it was not. Nope, all these prestigious figures were here for one reason and one reason alone: To honor my friends and I for a job impossibly well done. And frankly, I was just as surprised as they are.

At the moment, I was standing by the minibar, laughing it up with the livelier-than-ever, Adm. Wes Janson. All things considered, I guess it really had turned out okay in the end. We were alive, save the troopers who had died so bravely helping to save us all. Thanks,fellas. Without your heroic sacrifice, we'd all be dead now or worse, Vong slaves. I shuttered, not wanting to consider that gruesome fate any longer than the half second I had already. Yep, without Riley, Sheckil, Johnson, and even that mouthy barve, Bertrand, none of this would've been possible.

"Nor would many other things," I said to myself as I gazed across the small room to where Yuri and Zee were sitting in a couple of cushy, blue synthleather chairs. Judging by their excited speech and broad, angling hand gestures, it looked like they were right in the middle of discussing our most recent Vong engagement. Pilots, always bragging about their latest moment of clever, evasive maneuvering. Humph.

But just look at her, Marv. So young, so happy. So beautiful. Oh, Yuri. The future's pretty uncertain for us, kid. And the fighting looks like it'll just get harder and harder from here. But you got some fight in you, and I like that. And you sure are a cutie. I don't know, babe. Think we got a chance in Kessel of making this thing work between us? Humph, who knows, right? Wait and see. Enjoy the ride. Yeah.

Three meters to her left, the other Tagawa sister was spinning an even greater tale for a captive audience including my friend/her master, a couple o' CorSec boys, and the Horn's. I was too far from them to hear every word, but I could pick-out bits and pieces every now and again between lulls in the overall party din.

"—so there he was, blind, wounded, possibly bleeding internally, and with no idea of where he was, let alone how in the galaxy he'd ever make it back to his friends and their ship," explained the young Jedi, her eyes aglow. "So, what does he do? He locks onto me in the Force, whips out his saber, and slices his way down three floors to make his way back to the hangar just before we blast on out of there. How's that for amazing?" she beamed, gazing up at my friend in childlike admiration.

"Well, dearie, some men have a way of finding you no matter how well you're hidden," said Mirax, throwing a sly wink to her husband. The older Jedi nodded, a sheepish grin momentarily creasing his bearded mug.

Hearing of my buddy's recent death-defying exploits, I gave Lowan an appraising glance. The kid seemed to be in better shape. 'Course, as bad as he was when I last saw him, that wasn't hard to do. In his own calm, confident Jedi way, he was looking a lot better. Especially…with that smoking hot redhead hanging off his arm? What the…wait a second…Huh?!

Leaning to my right, I gave the admiral a friendly nudge. "Hey, Janson. Who's that girl with Lowan over there?"

He looked over and let out a low whistle. Then he turned back to me with a slightly-puzzled look on his face. "You kiddin' me, son? That's Aemm Nesto." I shrugged, still clueless. " _The Birth of the Rebellion?_ She played Han Solo's old girlfriend. No? For crying out loud, Marv, the girl's an intergalactic, holovid star! Surely, you've heard of her," he finished, eyeing me strangely. I winced an apology, slightly embarrassed by my apparent ignorance of holopop culture. Janson just shook his head in mild amusement. I looked back.

She had her arm around him now, nuzzling into him with the pure, undisguised affection of new lovers. Well, I'll be durned. An intergalactic, holovid star. Lowan, you slimy, little womprat. Good. I'm happy for ya, kid. Hope it works out and you two have tons of famous, little Jedi babies together. Just don't forget your ol' buddy Marv when it comes to naming the little brats. I laughed softly to myself for a second or two.

Then I poured myself another whiskey, loosened the bactasling that cradled my still-injured right arm, and headed over to join them. Although just in my head now, I was still trying to come to grips with the fact that it was all finally over. Not the war, of course. That was still lightyears off. But this battle, at least, had finally come to an end. A brief yet happy end. And spent with good friends, breaks like these are what keep us all fighting for just one more day. However temporary, they give us hope. And with that, the strength to go on.


End file.
